Alienation of Affection
by LanaDrama
Summary: Although Hermione knows there is no future with a married man, Lucius Malfoy is impossible for her to resist, no matter how hard she tries. Her attempt at ending her own relationship fails, as Ron reveals a devastating secret and clings harder than ever. But Lucius is not ready to yield. How far will both wizards go to win their witch? Lucius/Hermione. Adult readers only, please.
1. Prologue

**Portugal inspired me!**

* * *

Hermione stared at her reflection in a three-way mirror. The frothy, pearl-studded gown fell around her feet in voluminous folds. Her veil was attached to Aunt Muriel's diamond tiara with tiny flowers that matched the pearls of her dress. She took a deep breath and concentrated on staying still while maintaining perfect balance on the narrow stilettos of her white satin shoes. Never had she looked so resplendent … and never had she felt more depressed.

There were no jitters of excitement like all the other brides talked about. Only trepidation as flutterings in her stomach increased with each passing minute. She felt like she was going to an execution instead of a wedding. Part of her was going to die today.

The sense of doom closed in on her. She looked around her room. Her books and mementoes that have given her so much pleasure before looked meaningless now. Her whole world was collapsing … and yet she couldn't do the one thing that would stop her misery. This could be one of the last happy memories of his life. She didn't have the strength to take it away from him. Still, Hermione wished for something to happen to change all this.

In the mirror, a movement behind her caught her eye.

"You make a beautiful bride. Even after all the depraved things we've done, you pull off the white exquisitely," said a deep, familiar voice behind her.

She whirled around as fast as her gown would allow, her heart thumping in panic against her ribcage. His eyes burned as he kept looking her over.

"Lucius, you can't be here," she managed to say, flushing under his intense gaze.

He ignored her and turned her back to face the mirror. His hands remained on her shoulders as they stared at their reflection. They looked like a bride and groom.

"I had to see you." His voice was thick with emotion. "I think of little else but you."

Her chest painfully constricted. "You shouldn't say such things to me. We can't keep doing this."

Lucius bent close to her ear. His breath sending thrilling tingles from her spine all the way between her thighs. "Doing what, exactly? Name it, Hermione. Was it an affair? A last fling before you tie the knot? A scratch for a curious itch? You tell me."

Looking away from the mirror, Hermione turned to face him. "We've talked about this. I thought you understood. We were deluded to think that we could make this work. We've made commitment to other people. Perhaps if they were well and healthy, we could simply walk away and pursue our relationship, but we can't. They need us. Who knows how long they have? I've asked you before and I'm asking you again, are you prepared to make the last years of their lives full of pain and confusion? I'm not."

His eyes were a raging silver fire as he said, "I am. You obsess me every minute of every day. Sometimes I hate seeing you … hate how much I want you. The thought of being without you is agony. I am willing to risk anything for you."

At his declaration, her body grew hot under her dress. The sudden heat was almost too much. Her eyes fluttered close.

Lucius blew gently in her ear as he seductively whispered, "I know that look. I know what it means. How wet are you? Are your knickers soaked yet? Are you even wearing any?"

Her thighs clenched at his words. Oh, how she loved his dirty talk! He always managed to seduce her with words before even laying a hand on her.

"Lucius, please go. Go before someone catches you in here!" she said, biting back her whimper of frustration and arousal.

He didn't acknowledge her words as he took a step closer to her, pressing his body tightly behind hers. He audibly inhaled.

"I will go on one condition. I need to be with you one last time," he said, lashing his out to flick at her earlobe.

"Lucius, it's so wrong," Hermione said, her eyes pleading with him in the mirror's reflection.

"How can it be?"

He turned her in his arms. She didn't breathe as Lucius lowered his head to hers. Another shiver ran down her spine. It was as though this mess didn't exist. They were made for each other and no one else.

"One last time," he whispered right before his lips claimed hers.

Hermione slipped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. It was as tender and tentative as their very first kiss. Her head was spinning. Dimly, Hermione heard voices from somewhere in the house. Her bridal party is supposed to come fetch her when it's time … how long did they have?

Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she broke away from him. "Lucius, we can't! Anyone could walk in on us, even if we lock the door!"

Backing her against the mirror, he pinned her arms to it and teased her mouth with his tongue, effectively silencing her weak protests. He kissed her possessively and roughly, tugging hard on her bottom lip.

"You're right," he said when he released her mouth. "Anyone could. It makes it all the more exciting, doesn't it? If you don't keep quiet, they'll walk in to find you in your pretty white dress impaled on Death Eater's cock. They might even think you're being taken against your will until they see you break apart in my arms, screaming for me to fuck you harder."

She gasped in outrage, but her lower body betrayed her. Her knickers were getting wetter with each second.

"What an awful thing to say," Hermione admonished him, but there was an obvious lack of disapproval in her tone.

He responded by savagely kissing her again. His tongue plunged into her mouth, ruthlessly raiding it, until she responded just as ardently.

His hands released hers and dipped beneath the silk neckline of her dress, tugging it down to expose her breasts. Lucius hesitated for a moment, looking into her eyes for any sign of objection. There was none, as usual.

He bent to her neck, licking his way down to one of her breasts.

 _One last time._

She vowed to memorize every sensation of this moment, to imprint the feeling of his mouth on her skin forever.

A loud gasp left her when he laved her nipple with his tongue. She moved her hands to hold him there, but he didn't oblige her, moving down to kneel before her.

A wicked smile grazed his lips as he raised up her voluminous skirts. Fisting the tulle fabric in her hands, Hermione held up her dress skirt to her waist, allowing him to focus solely on her.

He nibbled on her stockinged leg, moving up to her thigh as his hands gripped her arse to pull her more to him. Hermione whimpered when she felt him nuzzling her through her knickers, teasing her through sodden silk. He urged her to part her legs more and she eagerly complied. The voices and footsteps continued to echo outside her door, but she didn't care. With her luck, no one would walk in on them in a million years.

His forefinger slid inside her knickers, teasing her up and down her slit. Pushing the useless material to her knees, Lucius ran his tongue from her arse to her clit. Hermione gasped and moaned as he continued to lick her, his tongue delving in and out of her entrance, no longer teasing but determined. She twisted the dress in her hands, moaning and shuddering against the cool surface of the mirror against her back.

When his two fingers pushed inside her, his tongue moved to her clit, showering it with relentless flicks before sucking it hard between his lips. It was all it took.

With a low cry, she came, trembling against his mouth as he continued to pleasure her. Only when her breathing calmed did he pull away.

"Get on your hands and knees," he ordered her.

Shaking, Hermione knelt on the floor before him, facing the mirror. She hardly recognized her reflection: her face flushed, her hairdo lopsided, eyes wild, and the bodice of her dress twisted below her breasts.

With a growl, Lucius unfastened his trousers, shoved the skirt of her dress further up over her back and thrust into her pussy.

"Oh fuck," he groaned. "You're always so tight. I think you may injure my cock one of these days."

She laughed slightly at the mental image as she relaxed her weight onto her forearms. He withdrew from Hermione until just the head of his cock speared her. When he shoved hard into her again, her laughter vanished.

He slapped her bottom and bent over her to whisper in her ear, "You think it's funny?"

"Sort of. You can be so melodramatic sometimes," she said, wiggling against him.

His teeth nipped at her neck.

"Lucius?"

"Hmm?"

"We don't have much time."

"Aren't you a demanding little thing?"

He straightened up and pulled her up with him, nibbling on her neck, marking her with passionate, sucking kisses as he fucked her with thrusts so deep that Hermione seriously wondered if she'll be able to walk again as she bit hard on her lips to suppress her cries. Not one to be idle, she moved back against him, meeting his thrusts, one of his hands abandoned her hip to squeeze and grope her breast.

There was feminine laughter and conversation right outside her door. Their breath caught and they stilled. Then the footsteps and voices retreated.

"Does Weasley fuck you like this?" Lucius panted in her ear, drawing his hips back before thrusting forward.

Hermione shook her head, unable to do anything but whimper as she felt a strong orgasm building within her.

"I thought not."

He straightened back and pounded into her until an urgent current seized her body and robbed her of sanity and strength. His name left her lips in a loud wail. His hand clapped over her mouth just in time to drown out her cries. Bowed by the power of her orgasm, Hermione collapsed onto the carpeted floor, the fibers scratching at her breasts. Lucius continued to drive faster into her until he groaned in relief, sending sharp blasts of his seed inside her. She felt his mouth at her shoulder, nipping the skin, marking her as his.

When Hermione came down from her pinnacle, she felt him stroking her back and whispering soothing words in her ear. Lucius helped her to her feet and guided her on trembling legs into the washroom. He watched as she adjusted her dress and fixed the mess that was her hair and veil.

Feeling a hot trickle of his release flowing down her thighs, she turned to Lucius. "May I borrow your wand?"

"Why?"

"I have to clean up and I don't want to risk wetting the dress," she explained, feeling her face grow warm.

He smirked and shook his head. "There will be no need for that. Stay as you are. If you're going to marry him, do so with my come still warm between your thighs. Remember this: you may be his wife, but you will always be mine. Every inch of you is mine. You will always belong to me and only me."

She sighed in despair. "Lucius, when you say such things … it makes it ten times harder."

"Good."

"Don't say that," Hermione insisted. "I am so terribly sorry for this. We never should have started something we couldn't finish. We knew this would bring nothing but misery. Sometimes there are circumstances in life that are bigger than us. I thought you understood that." She reached out to stroke his hair. "I honestly think that just because we can't be together physically doesn't mean we can't be together in our hearts. I'll always love you."

Lucius kissed her and then stepped back. "It's not enough, Hermione. He is all wrong for you. He's probably lying about everything because he can feel you pulling away from him. I won't let him ruin our lives!"

He Disapparated before she could utter another word.

* * *

Part of Hermione wanted to get the ceremony over with and put an end to her anxiety. Another part of her stubbornly wanted to stall it for as long as possible. She was so nervous as she walked down the aisle, her hands cold and trembling.

 _This could be one of Ron's last happy moments in this life_ , she kept repeating to herself over and over.

The beauty of the ceremony was lost on her as Hermione didn't hear a single word the minister had said. She scanned the Ministry's Matrimony Hall and suddenly spotted Lucius. She didn't think her nerves could handle this much longer.

"If anyone knows of any reason why this couple shouldn't be joined in matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Hermione saw Lucius's body tense and then to her horror and relief he strode towards the altar.

* * *

 **Will Mr. Malfoy object to this unholy union or forever hold his peace?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you all for your great feedback. It's deeply appreciated.**

 **I hope you'll like this chapter that starts our couple on a journey that culminates in the Prologue.**

* * *

 _One Year Earlier._

The most remarkable moments in life often begin with the most innocuous events.

For Hermione, such event occurred shortly after lunch when a letter arrived for her. The seal on the back bore the unmistakable colors of the Malfoy family crest.

The sender's identity puzzled her. Last spring Draco and his wife perished in a horrible Fiendfyre that broke out at a wedding they attended. Mrs. Malfoy survived but, last Hermione heard, she was in critical condition in St. Mungo's. That only left one other person … but why would _Lucius Malfoy_ write to _her?_

Reading the contents of the letter didn't abate her curiosity, but doubled it. Lucius Malfoy asked for a private audience with her, at her earliest convenience, about a mysterious legal matter.

Ever since Hermione received a promotion to Solicitor General, she had been looking for a case to evoke passion in her. Sometimes she wondered if she'd made the right choice transferring from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magic Creatures to Magical Law Enforcement. She went from the front lines of activism to the ivory tower of restrictive protocol. Hermione promised to give it a year and, if things don't improve, transfer back to her old post.

Without further consideration, she wrote back to him, promising to stop by his manor after work.

However, as soon as she was standing in front of the intimidating manor, she wondered if it was wise of her to come here at all. She had never felt such an acute sense of sadness from a place before. The hedges were untrimmed, entangled with weeds. The house itself was partly covered with vines. The wind whispered dismally through the swaying boughs as Hermione made her way up the weed-grown path to moss-covered steps. She raised her hand and firmly knocked.

Her knock was answered almost immediately … by the master of the house himself. The air left her lungs and she found herself suddenly breathless at the sight of him. It was remarkable how much he's changed in the six years since the last time she'd seen him. His once immaculate hair was clean, but slightly unkempt and lacked its usual luster. His robes, although clean and tailored to show off his masculine physique, were not in their first state of wear.

When their eyes met, she caught a glimpse of weariness and despair in them. He was all too aware of the cruelties of the world, of its injustices. There was no disdain or hatred in his gaze. No remorse either. Only silent anguish. The toll of his mistakes ravaged at him without reprieve or succor, and he was to suffer it all in isolation and solitude.

 _No one should have to endure that_ , Hermione thought. Didn't he have any friends to help him?

"Miss Granger, thank you for seeing me on such short notice," he said. His voice was the same, containing the deep, well-modulated notes that had been so familiar in her girlhood.

A gasp died in her throat as she opened her mouth to respond, "Mr. Malfoy. Hello. I was most … surprised to receive your note."

He motioned for her to come in and she followed him into the house, wrinkling her nose against the faint musty odor. The floorboards groaned beneath her feet as Hermione walked passed many rooms that must have been very opulent once. Most were either bare or had furniture draped in covers; clearly, not much of the house was actually used for daily activities. He led them into a modest sitting room and gestured for her to sit in one of the chairs by the window.

"Tea, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Um … yes, thank you," she agreed. Hermione really wanted him to get to the heart of the matter, but didn't want to seem rude.

He snapped his fingers for the house-elf and the creature reappeared.

"Tea for two," the wizard instructed.

The elf returned with tea service and set it on the table between their chairs. He looked uncertainly at the teapot, as though he was willing it to pour itself.

"Allow me," Hermione said, reaching for the teapot.

He scowled, but allowed it, watching his guest serve. She finished quickly and glanced over her shoulder at him. "How do you take it?" she asked.

"With lemon," he replied.

Hermione nodded and fixed the cup. She handed it over to him and he took the cup and saucer with both hands, careful not to spill it. He sat back and stared at her. His mouth formed a tight, thin line as his eyes took an inventory of her face. Hermione saw them course down to her hair, to her eyes, down her nose, and stopped at her lips. He studied them for a long time and Hermione nearly kicked herself when her tongue flitted out to moisten them.

It was dangerously quiet in the room. She wanted to ask so much, but was at a loss for words. The polite thing would be to make small talk until he felt comfortable enough to ease into his great matter. Or offer condolences for his recent loss. None of the options felt appropriate enough, so she remained silent.

"You're probably wondering why I insisted on meeting with you," he finally said. Sitting close together, his voice sounded more intimate somehow … it unnerved and excited her at the same time.

"I do. Your letter was most cryptic. You've given me no hints other than imply it is a legal matter … of some sort?" Hermione responded.

"Yes." He looked down into his tea, frowning. "When I was serving my term in Azkaban, my wife and son have sold off several properties to the Ministry, the sale of which I did not authorize. As I am a free man now, I am within full rights to press my claims. There are two reasons why purposely sought out your services. One, you are reported to have the best legal mind in the country. If I'm going to win, I'll need the best. Two, I am a very private individual. I have followed your casework, and I never once found you to say anything indiscreet about clients. I like discretion. It's not a quality one sees much nowadays … especially with curiosity seekers."

Hermione gulped, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She hated having to refuse, but she had to be honest. "Mr. Malfoy, I'm … pleased you think so. But I have to be frank, I am completely wrong for your case. I have only recently started working in my current department. Before that I dealt with laws that concern magical creatures. I don't think I'm qualified at all for this."

He looked up, his grey eyes piercing hers. "But you are. You're perfect, in fact."

Her eyes widened a little and a slow flush spread across her cheeks. She opened her mouth to contradict him, but he continued to speak.

"In the last six years, you have managed to overturn some of the oldest, staunchest laws in existence. What I'm asking is downright simple in comparison," he said. "Something has been done in my name without my permission, and I want those unauthorized actions reversed. That's all."

"It's not that simple, sir. I have no knowledge about the circumstances the transaction in question. Not to mention that you were in Azkaban at the time and laws were different then," Hermione explained. "What is illegal now and provides a loophole for you to press your claim, may not have been so at the the time. Laws can't work retroactively. No court will allow it."

He arched an eyebrow. "You're refusing to take this on, then?"

"I don't see how I can. I'm not an expert in this branch of law. I'll have to do a lot of research to become even remotely proficient; I have only an elementary understanding of it right now. Not to mention, as I have said, cases such as this one are likely to be dismissed before we even see a courtroom. We have to have something more to go on. You'd be better off with someone who has more understanding of these cases and with vastly more experience."

He looked down before he looked back at her, his gaze impenetrable. "Everyone with more experience declined my case," he said quietly.

Her heart twisted in sympathy as she stared into the gleaming gray depths of his eyes. He looked unwell, or at least very melancholy. He had suffered so much … if she could help him in this small way, she wanted to do it.

"You do realize this is huge risk. Huge. You may think I'm the best in one branch, but it doesn't mean this alleged expertise will translate to your case," Hermione warned him. "Have you ever heard a saying that sometimes the best team doesn't win?"

The corners of his mouth twitched and he nodded. "I'm willing to take that chance. I may be out of options, but something tells me, you're going to be a right fit."

"Okay. I will need to go over all the documents pertaining to this case. The deeds of sales … um … everything else you have…" She was cut off by an excited male voice in the doorway.

"Mama!" cried out an adorable blond boy in blue and white sailor suit. The child ran at her and dove across her lap. Hermione raised her cup just in time for the rambunctious youngster to avoid colliding with it. Unfortunately, the teacup tipped in her hand, the hot liquid spilling down her chest. She hissed in pain.

"You impertinent child!" Lucius raised his voice at the boy. "Didn't I tell you to stay quiet when adults are talking?"

The boy looked at Hermione in confusion, then slid off her lap and ran into a corner.

"I thought she was mama. Her hair is like mama's!" the boy whined.

"We've talked about this. Your mother is dead. Now get out!" Lucius ordered him before calling out, "Mrs. March!"

A stern-looking witch marched into the room. "I am so sorry, Mr. Malfoy. He is quite a trickster."

"I am not interested in excuses, Mrs. March. See that it doesn't happen again." The nanny led the boy out of the room by the hand. Never had Hermione seen a more crestfallen child. She surmised he must be Scorpius, Draco's orphaned son. She felt exceedingly sorry for the little boy. She couldn't imagine losing her parents and living with a relative who was too busy suffering from his own pain to care about anyone else's.

"Do excuse my grandson's behavior, Miss Granger. His parents never taught him manners, I'm afraid."

Hermione cast a cleaning spell on her blouse. Her chest slightly throbbed.

"I should go," she said. "I'll do some research tonight, then stop by tomorrow and we'll go over all the relevant documents together. Would the same time work for you?"

"Of course. Thank you, Miss Granger for taking this on." Lucius Malfoy looked at her as if he wanted to say something else.

"I look forward to working with you," Hermione said, holding out her hand to him.

"Likewise." Lucius gently shook it with his own.

She gasped in surprise as tiny electric sparks danced up and down her arm at the contact. His hand felt warm and strong around hers. A feeling of safety settled upon her. It must be what it was like for people who held hands often. Her boyfriend, Ron, hardly ever held hers throughout their entire six-year courtship. People who did this a lot probably wouldn't have such a severe reaction to such a simple gesture.

Hermione needed to breathe. They seemed to have been standing there for eternity, gawking at their joined hands while absent-mindedly moving them in the up and down handshake motion.

Her mind snapped to, and she said softly, "I'd better go. I shall see you tomorrow."

"Yes, see you then." He continued to hold her hand.

She knew she should let go of it, but she didn't want to. There was no logical reason for it.

Before Hermione could think too much about it, he released her hand and stepped back.

She gave him a small smile. "I can show myself out. Have a good evening."

"You too."

She turned and walked out, confused why she felt disappointed when he finally let go of her hand.

* * *

 **Sounds like that household is in dire need of a** **feminine touch :)**


	3. Chapter 2

**I wish everyone a very happy weekend! Thank you all for taking the time to review! Enjoy!**

* * *

"Why on earth did you want to meet me here?" Hermione asked Harry as she stared at Pandora's Box, an exclusive jewelry shop in Diagon Alley. "When you said dinner, I had a crazy notion that we'd end up in a restaurant. What's going on?"

"Somebody's birthday is coming up soon," Harry said with a smile.

"That's not for two weeks," Hermione protested. "And since when have you wanted to buy me jewelry?"

Harry smiled. "Well, I don't. But a certain someone wanted my help with a very special gift. You are to tell me what you like and I am to report it to Ron when he gets back from his Wales patrol this Friday."

Hermione stifled a groan. "I told him not to get me anything extravagant. I don't even like wearing jewelry. I can't exactly be taken seriously with babbles all over my neck and ears."

"You'll want this babble," Harry said with a wink. "And it's not for your neck or ears."

They walked inside and Harry steered her towards the glass cases featuring rings. Hermione gawked at her friend.

"You're not serious?" she asked. He wasn't suggesting what she thought he was … was he?

"I'm not supposed ruin the surprise, but since it's impossible to pull one over on you…" He sighed. "Yes, he wants to get you a ring."

Hermione wished she could be half-excited as Harry was about it. Isn't that's what was expected: squeals of happiness from a girl who just found out that her boyfriend was on the verge of proposing? Except engagements, rings, and weddings wasn't something she spent a lot of time fantasizing about. She certainly wasn't a proponent of your-wedding-is-the-happiest-day-of-your-life camp.

She managed a smile for Harry. "I don't know. I'd sort of prefer for it to be a complete surprise."

"But Ron doesn't want to pick just anything. He wants to pick out something you like. Something special."

"But he knows my taste. I don't wear a lot of jewelry, so if he wanted to buy me a ring, something simple would do. I don't really have a preference for these things."

"Just look around and pick out your favorite," Harry insisted. "It'll at least give him some idea of what you like. Last time we were here, it was hopeless. They kept asking Ron all these questions about color and cuts and we had no idea."

Hermione softly laughed at the image. "I doubt I'm much better, but as soon as I pick, we'd better get dinner."

"It's a deal," Harry said.

Looking around at the sparkling dazzle of rings, Hermione felt overwhelmed. However, of endless possibilities, nothing appealed to her. There was something so commercialized and impersonal about the process. All the rings looked practically the same anyway. As she walked from case to case, her eyes began to sting from the constant glitz.

"This one," she said eventually, eager to get the whole ordeal over with. She pointed at the large natural pearl surrounded by tiny diamonds on a simple band.

"It's not a typical engagement ring, but it's classy, like you," Harry said. He gave her a brief hug, and Hermione reminded him about their dinner plans.

They walked to Leaky Cauldron and over butterbeer and roast beef sandwiches and crisps, Hermione told Harry about her day.

"I feel bad for the poor kid, but are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked her, his brow creased in concern.

"I want to. They have no one. What's the worse thing that can happen? We lose the case? That's a possibility I warned him about. I have to at least try. They had to deal with so much tragedy, I want to do something to help. If anything, maybe once I've helped with his case, I can convince Mr. Malfoy to try a different approach with his grandson. He seems to treat Scorpius like a little adult, rather than a child. That boy needs play time to cut loose and be around kids his own age; he doesn't need constant reprimands and be passed off to the nanny who looks as warm and maternal as Madam Pince."

"How old is Scorpius? Can't be older than Teddy, right?"

"No, he's about a year younger. Five, I think."

"I'd offer a play date, but I doubt Malfoy would approve," Harry said, taking a swig of butterbeer.

Hermione got an idea. "Not necessarily. I mean if I can convince him to be less authoritarian with Scorpius, maybe eventually he'll be more open to the idea. Is he supposed to be all neglected and alone until he goes off to Hogwarts?"

Harry looked pensive. She wondered if the conversation hit an uncomfortable note for him; she didn't mean to remind him of his own bleak childhood.

"I don't how you'll convince Malfoy to suddenly become the jolly grandpa, but if anyone can make him see the light, it's you," Harry said. "Just don't expect too much. No one likes a stranger to tell them how to raise their kid."

"You're right." She groaned. "It's not my place. But you should have seen his face. He's just like this hurt puppy. You can tell he had a different life with Draco and Astoria. It really sounds like Draco went in the opposite direction of his father."

"Wait, does Ron know you're going to be working with Malfoy?" he asked, squinting.

Hermione couldn't help but side-eye his sexist comment. "In some parts of the world, women are allowed to make decisions without consulting their significant other. They even let us vote and everything."

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Harry looked sheepishly away.

"Let's see, I got back from the Manor to meet you at Pandora's Box and now I'm having dinner with you. When exactly would I have time to inform him?"

Harry turned red. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I just meant that he'd want to know."

"I'll tell him during our fire-chat tonight," she said.

"He'll worry, you know," he mentioned.

She rolled her eyes. "We all worry, but we can't stop living our lives."

* * *

Harry was right. When Hermione told Ron about her new case, he made no secret to hide his disapproval.

"Something doesn't feel right about this," he said, his tone full of suspicion typical of an Auror.

"Why? He is not interested in jinxing me, only hiring me for my services."

"I don't know, Hermione," Ron said. "I don't like the idea of you being involved with him in any shape or form. He's dangerous. He hates Muggle-borns. There tons of rumors of him and Draco having a great row over something. Some even say that he was involved in that wedding Fiendfyre."

Hermione threw up her hands. "How? Wasn't he in Azkaban at the time?"

"Yeah, but it's his best alibi. He's a Dark Wizard. He could've broken out in secret, set the Fiendfyre, then quickly gotten back. Being in Azkaban is the best alibi."

"You and your conspiracy theories. You're becoming the new Mad-Eye."

"Doesn't it seem odd that you asked you to take this case?" Ron persisted. "I'm not saying you're not any good. But you've made a name for yourself in extending rights and protections to magical creatures, not squabbling over land disputes for pompous gits like him."

"Ron, I know what I'm doing." Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes again. "I want to help anyone who feels an injustice has been committed against them under the law. It matters not if he's a nice person. All that matters is figuring out if he was cheated of rightful property and restoring that property back to him. People are free to view him with suspicion, and rightfully so, but that doesn't mean anyone can deny him his legal rights. And if no one is helping him find legal representation, then it's not odd that he turned to me. What choice did he have?"

He sighed. "I don't want to argue over this. I know you'll do what you want and what you believe is right. Just know that I'm worried about this. Be on your guard when you're around him. Always meet in a public place, and let either me or Harry know when—"

"I know, I know," she interrupted him. "You don't have to act like I'm helpless. I appreciate your concern, but if something felt off, I wouldn't have accepted."

Hermione was tired and ended the conversation shortly afterwards.

The following day, she felt a tingle of anticipation all day at work. In her eagerness, she arrived early. A house-elf let her in, citing that Mr. Malfoy wasn't in yet. She decided to wait in the parlor. Before she had a chance to sit down, a movement on the staircase caught her eye by the open door. She peaked into the spacious hall and smiled.

An angelic little boy slid down the banister, then soared into the air with a summersault before landing lightly on the floor.

"Hello," she greeted him from the doorway.

"Hello," he shyly responded, his eyes widening. He walked up to her and extended his hand. "Scorpius Malfoy. How do you do?"

Hermione kneeled down to his level and shook it. "Hermione Granger. It's a pleasure to formally meet you. I was here yesterday, remember?"

He nodded. His eyes gleamed as he tugged on her hand. "Would you like to play in my room? No one ever comes to play with me anymore."

She bit her lip, considering. Mr. Malfoy may disapprove and she was officially here on business … but how could she refuse?

Nodding, she hurried up the imposing staircase after the energetic youngster. They turned right. The walls were lined with older paintings of Malfoy ancestors, which seemed to be in better condition than the parts of the house she'd seen yesterday.

"That's my grandfather's room," he said, pointing towards the end of the hall in the opposite direction of where they were headed. "But there are no toys there. Or anything fun. He's always grumpy."

Hermione stopped and stared at the double doors, which were almost obscured by the shadows in the dimly lit corridor. For some reason, she felt as though she was invading Mr. Malfoy's privacy. The thought of being near his bedroom made her uncomfortably hot. There was this unexplainable pull towards it.

"Come on!" Scorpius tugged on her arm again and skipped to the end of the hall. "This is my room!" he announced, opening his door.

Hermione sucked in her breath at the sight before her. Unlike the rest of the house, so far, this room looked … happy. The room had large, floor-length windows and plush carpeting. The nautical decorating theme loudly proclaimed the boy's love of the sea and ships. If any visitors had lingering doubts about the child's hobby, a large replica of an eighteenth century naval destroyer towered above the bed.

Scorpius ran up the steps aboard the deck. "Would you like to play on my ship? You can be my First Mate." he asked her, as he took his place at the helm.

She gave her best salut. "Aye, aye, captain!"

They spent several minutes frolicking on the toy. Hermione never seen such an immaculate likeness before. She could easily see a group of children playing in it for hours. How much more fun this would be for Scorpius if he were allowed to have friends his age here!

"Did you have your friends play here with you over the summer?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I used to have lots of friends. Then I came to live here with grandfather and they couldn't come with me. But with my friends, we used to play pirates. It was fun. Someday I'm going to sail on a ship all over the world! My papa took me once. He said he'd take me again." Scorpius paused, then looked at Hermione with pleading eyes. "When is papa coming back, Miss Ermione?"

Hermione felt the tears sting her eyes. "Oh, Scorpius. Did your grandfather ever speak to you about an accident with fire?"

Scorpius nodded. "We went to see grandmother in the big building. She was sleeping. Is that where he is too?"

"Not exactly. Sometimes when bad things happen, like fire accidents, we can get seriously hurt. Your grandmother is very hurt. She'll be in the big building for a very long time," she explained. "Do you understand?"

He nodded.

"And sometimes when these accidents happen, people go to sleep and they never wake up. It's called being dead. It means one can't come back from it, no matter badly one may want to."

"Mama and papa are never coming back? Even if I'm really, really good?" Scorpius whispered.

"It doesn't work like that, sweetheart. They loved you whether you were good or not. This isn't up to them," Hermione answered softly. She gently touched his shoulders. "But just because someone dies doesn't mean they leave us forever. They'll always be right here in your heart."

"Will you leave me too, Miss Ermione?"

"Someday. When I finish working with your grandfather, I'll have to leave. But not right now."

Scorpius plumped down to sit on the deck, dangling his legs over the edge of the ship.

"I wish you could come and play with me every day. Mrs. March is mean. Sometimes she gets so cross, she hits me on the head with her big spoon," he said in a light tone.

Hermione's blood ran cold. "She hits you?"

He shrugged. "Only when I'm bad. But sometimes I don't mean to. When my magic happens, I can't stop it."

The little boy's confession distressed her. She seethed with anger at Mrs. March for her abusive disciplinary tactic and at Mr. Malfoy for being blissfully ignorant of it. If he deigned to spend more time with his own grandchild he would hear about it, same as she. Hermione was determined to discuss this with Mr. Malfoy as soon as she saw him.

Scorpius brightened and hopped on to his feet. "Let's play hide and seek! I'll hide first!"

"Okay. But stay in this room. Your grandfather wouldn't like me to go snooping all over the house for you."

"Okay! Count to twenty and don't look!"

"I won't," she promised, closing her eyes.

When she heard his little feet stomp down the ship's steps and shuffle on the carpet, she began to count.

"One, two, three…"

The room became eerily quiet when Scorpius ceased to make any noise.

"Seven, eight, nine…"

Her voice echoed around the high ceiling. Hermione felt a prickling sensation of being watched.

"Twelve, thirteen, fourteen…"

There was a soft noise on the floor behind her. As she was about to utter the last number in her count, a hand came down to her shoulder.

A loud scream left her lips as she scrambled to her feet and spun around, brandishing her wand.

"Calm down, Miss Granger, it's only me," Lucius said, taking a step back.

Her chest heaving, she tried to take deep breaths. "You've given me an awful fright, Mr. Malfoy. You should have made your presence known."

His haunted eyes softened.

Scorpius came scrambling from the toy closet. "You scared, Miss Ermione, Grandfather!"

"So I did. Apologies, Miss Granger." He turned to his grandson. "You stay here now. Miss Hermione and I have much to discuss."

The little boy nodded with sadness in his eyes. "Miss Ermione, will you come back to finish the game?"

"If it's okay with your grandfather," Hermione replied, looking at Lucius Malfoy.

He gave a brisk nod and she grinned at Scorpius. The boy looked instantly more joyful.

Lucius stepped down from the toy ship and held his hand out to Hermione. She gratefully took it. The warmness from his hand soothed and relaxed her. She glanced at his hand again. His fingers were long and strong without any scars.

 _Hands were oddly underrated on men,_ she thought. Yet, from the most innocent touches to the most intimate caresses, everything happens with the hands first.

The thought of him intimately caressing her made her flush and she silently admonished herself for her wayward thoughts and quickly let go of his hand. They walked out of Scorpius's playroom mainly in silence and arrived to his study.

"Have a seat, Miss Granger. Please, excuse my tardiness. I was … detained." His eyes turned somber once more.

Hermione remained standing as she spoke, "Mr. Malfoy, before we begin, there is another matter that I must discuss with you."

He eyed her with curiosity. "Go on."

"It has come to my attention that your grandson is being physically abused by his nanny. He's told me that Mrs. March hits him repeatedly on a head with a spoon by means of discipline. It's positively barbaric. I may be overstepping my bounds, but I cannot keep my own counsel on this."

"Miss Granger, whatever means the governess employs to instill discipline is up to her. I understand that to a modern young lady, such as yourself, certain corporal punishments seem outdated. However, my generation, and that of Mrs. March, was a big proponent of traditional disciplinary measures. They may seem draconian, but they work in the long run."

"Then I'm sorry, I will be unable to work for you." The emotions that she suppressed in front of Scorpius finally spilled over and tears began to freely flow down her cheeks. "I know I have no right to interfere, but I think it's abuse. I won't work for someone who condones such abusive practices. It's a matter of principle, sir."

He looked at her as though she was from another planet. Perhaps she did look rather alien to him, crying crocodile tears in his study over a matter that did not concern her. Perhaps a man of his stoicism wasn't used to emotional witches. What did she hope to accomplish with her ultimatum? The boy's situation won't improve; she just won't be here to hear about it … won't be here to offer any solace either.

Through her tears, she saw Lucius Malfoy move closer to her. When he stood before her, she became acutely aware of his lean height and strength.

He handed something white to her.

A handkerchief.

Hermione took it, embarrassed. She had never been a pretty cryer; her face had a tendency to break out in unflattering red blotches.

She quickly wiped at her tears and tried her best to compose her face before chancing a glance at him.

He continued to regard her with an odd expression on his face, then spoke with efficiency and economy, "I will discharge her in the morning. Sit down now. I believe we have other matters to discuss."

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 **First day on the job and Hermione's already shaking things up in the Malfoy household :D**


	4. Chapter 3

**Thank you all so much for your great support! I hope you'll like this chapter :)**

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For the next several days Hermione busied herself with Lucius's case during the day and visited with Scorpius in the evenings. It was clear the boy was lonely and needed more companionship than Lucius was able to provide. Since the sacking of the nanny from hell, Hermione thought it best to make her suggestions slowly, so as not to overstep their professional boundaries.

"So I found something interesting, which may actually give us a leg to stand on here," Hermione told Lucius one evening as they went over the case over dinner at Wordsworth's. "Because you didn't have a life sentence in Azkaban, you were supposed to be notified about each property before it went on sale. As executors of your estate, your family didn't need your expressed permission obviously, but they did need a confirmation from you that you received the notice and were aware of the proceedings. Failure to do that, should invalidate the sale. Or so I will try to argue in my petition when I turn it in tomorrow."

"It is as everyone said, your brilliance sees things others miss. I knew you'd be able to find a loophole," Lucius complimented her.

She gave him a small smile. He looked different tonight, more like his usual self. His dark robes accentuated his impressive physique, especially his luminous locks that seemed to glow tonight against the somber colors of his clothes. His austere countenance was much as she had remembered it from her girlhood days. Any woman would be hard-pressed not to find him attractive.

Hermione gave herself a mental shake-off and focused on the topic at hand.

"Reverting the ownership of the estates may not be as easy as finding a loophole. I am confident, however, that it gives us some hope of getting some sort of compensation from the court," she said before nibbling on the remainders of her dinner.

He nodded and turned to the contents of his plate. The silence became almost uncomfortable as they said all they could about the case.

When Hermione could stand it no longer, she asked, "How is the new governess? Is she getting on with Scorpius?"

The wizard across from her sighed heavily and sat back in his chair.

"I've not much luck on that front," he admitted. "I've interviewed at least a dozen applicants and none of them are quite right. When he is not with his tutor, my house-elf minds him."

She bit her lip, not sure she should voice her opinion.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Say it."

Startled, she blinked at him blankly. "Say what?"

"You looked as though you wanted to say something. You don't have to mince words with me, Miss Granger, you're free to express yourself as you like in my presence."

Oh.

"Well, perhaps if you're not away from home often, he doesn't need a governess. He really needs you to bond with him. He obviously had a close relationship with his parents and he misses that. Neither tutors nor governesses can fill that role. Scorpius also needs children his own age to play with and socialize. By what he tells me, he used to have a very active social life and going from that to a … very different situation is a hard adjustment. You can tell someone is really lonely when they invite a total stranger to play in their room." There was no stopping Hermione once her sentiments unleashed themselves.

His eyes pierced hers. "And what would you suggest, then?"

"Try a different approach. Maybe not finding an appropriate person is a perfect opportunity to do it yourself. Just do what you did with Draco when he was young," she suggested.

His mouth twisted in a grimace. "I don't think I was a very … affectionate father. I was too hard on him. We weren't even on speaking terms when he died." He looked away and took a long drink from his wine goblet.

Hermione could see how that particular fact hurt him and how much he regretted it. She wanted to offer comfort without stating unnecessary platitudes. "What if you thought of this as a second chance? We all make mistakes, but this is your opportunity to do things differently. It's too late for you and Draco, but it's not too late for Scorpius."

"When I had Draco I was younger. He was able to see me as someone who could teach him things and be able to do anything. Now I am fifty. What am I ever going to be to this child? A reclusive old man?"

She snorted into her own wine glass. "Old man, Mr. Malfoy? You're hardly that. To me you look exactly the same as ever. It's almost like you're ageless."

The corner of his mouth lifted in an enigmatic smile. "You're shameless in your flattery. I like that in a witch."

"What flattery? You're a legendary wizard, and legends don't get old. Besides, you have a spark in your eyes that you can't disguise. It means you have a youthful soul."

 _Okay, get away from the wine glass, Granger. You're officially cut off._

Hermione could kick herself for her blabber mouth. What was she thinking rambling like that? She dared to finally raise her eyes to his.

"Your powers of observation are very keen indeed if you glimpsed my soul with just one look," he remarked, looking thoroughly amused.

The serious mood of earlier dissipated. In its place something much more playful took over. She found herself so dazzled by his presence it was as if everyone and everything else in the room vanished and all she saw was him. It was quite exhilarating to have the attention of such handsome wizard focused solely on her.

Unable to stop herself, she responded, incapable of keeping a flirtatious note out of her voice, "As they say, _ab exterioribus ad interiora_."

He leaned closer to her. "You're too clever for your own good. I must be on guard around you."

"Not too clever, only well-educated."

"You are a cheeky witch," he teased her, clearly diverted. He took another sip of his wine and slowly licked his lips. He must have noticed where her attention wandered off to, because he gave her another one of his small, barely-there smiles.

Before he could say anything a booming voice interrupted them, "Good grief, Lucius Malfoy! Is that really you?"

He looked toward the speaker and a light of recognition ignited in his eyes.

"Alasdair, how are you?" he politely greeted his acquaintance.

"The same, but can't complain. I see you have company." The portly wizard peered hard at Hermione. "Why you're Hermione Granger! What a surprise indeed!" He gave her a leering smile.

She threw Lucius a questioning glance, who smoothly made the introduction, "This is an old family friend, Miss Granger, Alasdair Armstrong-Coutts."

"Pleased to meet you," she said, extending her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Granger," Mr. Armstrong-Coutts said as he vigorously shook her hand.

"Miss Granger is handling a case for me," Lucius explained.

The man knowingly winked at them. "I can see why. At least she got you to rejoin society. I believe such a feat calls for a toast." The new arrival sat down at their table and waived the waiter over to order an expensive bottle of Bordeaux. He pointedly scooted his chair closer to Hermione, who in turn nudged her seat closer to Lucius's.

The conversation between two wizards turned to acquaintances and business matters of which she knew nothing about. She silently listened and watched the two men polish off couple of bottles of wine, refusing to partake much herself for fear of provoking more inappropriate thoughts about Lucius Malfoy.

While Lucius showed no signs of intoxication, Mr. Armstrong-Coutts turned a deep shade of red. He kept scrutinizing her, as if contemplating something.

"Miss Granger, what about you? Is there a special someone in your life?" he asked.

"Um … Ron Weasley. We've been together for six years now," she answered. His observation of her was making her uncomfortable.

"Let me know if you ever get tired of him," Mr. Armstrong-Coutts said with another wink in her direction.

Hermione shifted closer to Lucius. Somehow she felt safer near him, as though his presence would prevent his friend's blatant ogling. Lucius provided comfort and warmth, which seemed to radiate off his body more strongly tonight than in their previous meetings. She found herself studying her employer closely, paying special attention to his mouth once more. It was oddly attractive the way its shape changed with every word he spoke.

"Don't make a fool of yourself, Alasdair. Miss Granger would hardly look at wizards old enough to be her father." Lucius's hand came to rest protectively over her own on the table. Instantly, every cell in her body became attuned to his touch.

"Ah, I see she is already spoken for. It appears Mr. Weasley has a rival for Miss Granger's affections."

The blond wizard scoffed. "Don't talk nonsense."

"Who could blame you? You've been in Azkaban so long, you must be ready to erupt like Mount Vesuvius."

Lucius looked embarrassed and poured another goblet of wine down his throat. Hermione felt for him and glared at Alasdair. That wizard really needed to mind what he said. This was neither the place nor occasion for ribaldry.

After dinner, Hermione and Lucius were finally able to make excuses to depart for the Manor. With one arm around her waist, he pulled Hermione to him and they Disapparated.

When they arrived at the gates of the house, Lucius was the first to speak, "I apologize for that. I forgot how forward Alasdair gets around beautiful witches after a few glasses of wine."

 _More like few bottles. Wait … beautiful?_

Did Lucius Malfoy really find her that attractive or was he simply paying her a generic compliment?"

"It's fine. I'm fine. He made me uncomfortable is all. I rather thought it was worse for you," she said. His hand still rested around her waist, atop her buttocks, but Hermione made no urge to move away. In fact, she wanted to cling to him harder than ever.

"I am an old acquaintance of his, but he had no right to harass you. I'm sorry you had to endure it," he reiterated.

"I appreciate your efforts in mitigating the situation."

He looked straight into her eyes and Hermione felt as though a spell was cast over this moment; she was mesmerized, unable to look away from his ardent gaze.

Lucius smirked. "The least I could do."

"Thank you. It's very kind of you. I'm truly grateful."

Hermione continued to look at him and as she did, her view of him shifted. A new sort of respect was formed and she saw Lucius Malfoy in a different light. He was no longer a former nemesis, but someone she could trust. Somehow without even thinking about it, they stumbled into a symbiotic relationship …a friendship?

Becoming aware at the precariousness of their position, he removed his hand and invited her to come inside to use the Floo Network.

"Thank you for dinner, Mr. Malfoy. I really enjoyed your company," Hermione said, stepping into the fireplace.

"We should do it more often. Although to minimize unwanted interruptions, we could do it here … if you have no objections, of course," he offered gallantly.

She smiled. "Of course not. It would be lovely, and Scorpius could join us."

"If you like."

"I'll submit our petition tomorrow. Then we'll have to wait until they owl us back."

"Do come by tomorrow then to tell me how it went," he said. "I'm sure Scorpius would be eager to see you as well."

What did he mean to tell him how it went? It was a routine matter of going to the courthouse and presenting the submission for case review. The process usually takes less than ten minutes. It would be nice to check up on Scorpius, however. She could even encourage Lucius to become more involved in playtime.

"I shall see you all tomorrow then. Good night."

"Good night, Miss Granger."

Something in his tone made her pause, then she tossed the Floo powder and called out her destination.

When Hermione arrived home, Ron was already in. They talked about his day and she gave him a brief overview of hers, leaving out the part about dining with Lucius. She wasn't sure why, but she sensed an argument rearing its head over that particular tidbit of information. Hermione wanted to mention window shopping for rings with Harry and how it wasn't the best time to consider marriage. But she refrained. Perhaps it would be better to hear it from Harry. He lacked her bluntness, and Ron was unlikely to see at as an outright rejection if it came from their mutual friend.

Settling down for the night, Hermione wanted to get lost in her own thoughts and relive the events of the evening, but Ron had other ideas. His amorous overtures were quite clumsy and left her cold, but she gave in. It was better than to have him grumble and complain about their lackluster sex life.

"You close, babe?" he asked through gritted teeth.

 _Not even in the same neighborhood_ , she wanted to say, but bit her tongue and gave a noncommittal moan. It wasn't going to happen tonight. It hardly happened any night, but tonight she was too preoccupied to even try to get into the right frame of mind. There was no point in continuing. How could she tell him that majority of her orgasms were faked? She wasn't one of those women to whom these things came with ease. What she resented even more is that he couldn't even tell. Hermione didn't even know what might help her, and Ron seemed to have a very limited arsenal of techniques.

Her mind wandered back to dinner with Lucius. She could vaguely recall his scent from when he held her close during their Apparition. She recalled how his friend teased him about relieving his needs. Did he pleasure himself? The image of what he might have done in his bed led Hermione to picturing herself with him. She wondered what he would be like as a lover. Would he be slow and sensual, or would he pin her to the mattress and ravish her?

Closing her eyes, she imagined him in Ron's place. She wondered what he'd feel like, if his skin and muscles would feel much different from Ron's. Would his hair be able to reach all the way down to her breasts or just sway about his shoulders in tune to his thrusts?

Her thoughts turned to the memory of his hand on her waist. Would she feel the same warmness if he slid it down to touch her lower? Her fantasy slowly build and soon her hips were jerked up and she came with a soft cry. The name on her lips wasn't her boyfriend's. It was Lucius Malfoy's. She managed to stifle it just in time as Ron grunted out his own release.

After giving her a sloppy kiss, Ron rolled off her and immediately fell asleep. Hermione couldn't do the same. Guilt consumed her. Did imagining another man during intercourse count as cheating? The fantasy helped her to achieve an elusive orgasm, but it felt cheapened somehow. Unbeknownst to Lucius, she used him for her own private gain and that made her feel even worse than the cheating aspect. After establishing such a good rapport with him, she didn't want anything to spoil it or make things awkward.

She vowed not to let her imagination carry her so much off course next time.

It was the wine … that would explain her prurient thoughts about him. Her inhibitions were lowered and that's why she let her imagination run amok. She'll just abstain from drinking around Lucius Malfoy in the future. Without alcohol such incidents wouldn't happen again. Hermione was certain of that.

Well, almost certain.

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 **Sounds like the lady doth protest too much :D**


	5. Chapter 4

**Happy Friday, everyone! Thank you all for reading and reviewing.**

 **Some professional lines are crossed, but that's not necessarily a bad thing :D**

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If Hermione thought her illicit fantasy would make things awkward the next day, it didn't. Stopping by Malfoy Manor felt like a pleasant post-work ritual now. She took her meals in the kitchen with the Malfoy men and afterwards played with Scorpius. Lucius never joined them, but sometimes stayed to watch. Some nights she stayed long enough to tuck the little boy into bed. A hitherto inexperienced maternal feelings sprung up in the young witch and she found herself enjoying taking care of the child.

One night after bidding good night to Scorpius, she found herself lingering in the halls, looking over various paintings.

"You like looking at this one. Why?" Lucius's voice dry, frosty voice asked her. He came up to stand behind her, so close he almost touched her back. Together they gazed at Schiele's Danae.

Hermione shrugged. "She's not ugly like his other paintings. She's different."

He stepped even closer and spoke in her ear. "Why do you think that is?"

She briefly glanced over her shoulder at him, then turned back to the painting. "I think it means that she's special. She's not distorted like his other painted women. This one was too precious to distort. See? She's even blushing."

"If you like that, what might you think of Chantron's flushed Danae?" he asked, motioning for her to follow him.

Hermione's amusement halted when they approached the double doors of his bedroom. She gulped and entered, stopping just inside the threshold. Lucius waved his wand and soft candles lit the room. Hermione bit her lip at the sight of the largest bed she'd ever seen. It was outlandish even for a married couple to share.

"What do you think of that?" he asked.

"I think it's a huge! I've never seen a bed like this in my life. How do you not get lost in it?" she replied without thinking.

He looked at her in bewilderment, then laughed. It was a free and happy laugh. Through his mirth, he looked quite surprised at the sound he emitted, almost as if his muscles had not had the opportunity to laugh in a long time, so long he had almost forgotten how to.

"Oh, Miss Granger, you are a pleasing enigma. Sometimes you say things that make you sound decades older, other times you wear your age on your sleeve," he remarked.

Her lips twitched as she fought a laugh of her own. She had to think of how to respond to that. "I'm glad I can entertain you."

Hermione watched him move across the space separating them, spellbound by the grace and power of his movements. He reached for her hand and held it, as though he had every right in the world to claim it for his own, then guided her away from the bed to the wall across from it.

Another touch.

Apart from their first handshake, Hermione found it a curious fact that Lucius Malfoy had initiated all of their subsequent physical contact. His touch was breathtaking, overwhelming, sensual – exactly how all the novels described a man's touch to be. It was a world her mind had always fantasied about, but one that failed to live up to her dreams in real life. Until now. But it was from a wrong man, wasn't it? Unlike in the novels, it didn't come from a love interest, but from the most forbidden, unattainable wizard. If he was an accomplished Legilimens, how he would have laughed at her silly thoughts.

Their eyes found each other again. His were so beautiful, dangerous, wild – a world of absolutes.

"I meant the painting, Miss Granger. What do you think of this Danae?" Lucius asked her, drawing her attention to an imposing canvas on the wall, letting go of her hand.

This one was perfect, more modern, more alive. This Danae reclined back on plush bedding, all flushed, relaxed, and happy in anticipation of what was to come. She held back the crimson curtain and smiled beguilingly at the golden raindrops falling on her. She knew what was to come and welcomed it.

"This one is perfect," she breathed out. "I love the pinks and reds in this painting, even her skin is glowing. It makes your heart race just by looking. It's sweet, but erotic at the same time. She's happy, she knows she's going to enjoy herself and look at her posture! She almost writhing up. There's nothing demure about her, but it's not vulgar either. She's beautiful."

"You don't see a similarity?" he cryptically asked.

"Similarity to whom?"

"To you, of course."

Her body nearly evaporated from heat. "To me?"

"Yes." He smirked. "I can't speak for the likeness of the nude's body, but shade of your blushes, the wild loose hair, the petite, dainty feminine shape … it's all very reminiscent of you. I myself only noticed it recently."

Hermione dropped her eyes. "I don't really see it. But it's a very excellent copy of the original. It's a priceless piece."

He stepped closer and lifted her face back up to look at him. "I assure you, it is not." He said no more, but his eyes nearly devoured her. It was almost too much to be so near him.

"Do you think bedroom is a proper place for it?" Lucius probed, his eyes flicking briefly to the canvass before invading her eyes again.

Hermione didn't answer, she only stared at his chest, at the row of buttons that was so close to her now. The first one was undone and Hermione had a burning urge to undo the rest. Her hand reached forward and touched one of the buttons before common sense yanked it back.

She cleared her throat. "Yes, it's very right in here. This one could only be hung in the bedroom, I think. It is much too erotic to be anywhere else in the house."

"Must eroticism only be contained to the bedroom?" he teased.

"I guess not." She bit her lip. "I wouldn't know really."

"Why not? You're a worldly witch in a committed monogamous relationship. You must have opinions on the matter," he said, his voice dropping.

She gave him a sad smile. "Physical side of things isn't really that exciting for me. I think I have a cold, even frigid, nature when it comes to that stuff. I don't mind it but it's not terribly exciting for me."

 _Except that one time when I imagined you on top of me, but that's beside the point._

"I don't mean to sound prudish though. I think everyone should be free to do whatever they like," she rushed to clarify. "You obviously have more experience in that department that I do." She gestured at the rest of the bedroom.

 _Oh, kill me now! Why are having this conversation?_

"I don't know. When there are problems in a marriage, this aspect tends to be the first to fade away," he commented.

This was her chance to change the subject.

"You mentioned earlier that you weren't on good terms with Draco when he died. Were you estranged from your wife as well?" she asked.

He sighed. "You can say so."

"Why?" she probed. "Forgive me if I'm prying. You just always seemed like a very close family unit. It's a shame to lose that."

"We've had some terrible disagreements. I disapproved of Draco marrying so young. He didn't finish school, didn't take his N.E.W.T.s … I never bothered to listen to his reasons for it. I was … dreadful to him in those discussions. It was the same with Narcissa. We've had disagreements over estate management … among other things." He paused, then took a seat on the ottoman before continuing, "One day she wrote to me. Later I found out it was not meant to be sent, but it was. And…" He trailed off, pursing his lips.

Hermione took a seat next to him. "You know sometimes people write out things in anger that they don't mean. It's just a way to get things off your chest."

"At any rate it was sent and … she blamed me for everything. She said she hated being married to a weakling … that her love and respect died the day she realized that … I couldn't protect her only son from the Dark Lord. There were other petty grievances there too. It all concluded with her stating that once I'm released from Azkaban, we'll have to live apart for the rest of our marriage." His voice was thick with emotion as he continued to talk.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "I can't imagine what it must have felt like to read something like that," she said softly.

"Yes, delivery could have been better," Lucius said. "You're the only person I've told of this."

"Oh, I'm not the sort to air out the private details of your life," she hurried to say. "I am your solicitor; everything you say to me is confidential. I don't use my job to collect gossip."

"I believe you, Miss Granger. I didn't mean to imply otherwise."

"I'm sorry for what you went through," Hermione said, her hand gently caressing his shoulder. "It must be really hard to lose your loved ones when you were on bad terms with each other. It would have been hard either way, but to have so many things left unsaid must make it even more difficult to deal with this tragedy. In the grand scheme of life, some of the things we fight and argue over just seem so insignificant, but we only see it in hindsight."

"You're right." He remained silent for a while. Feeling self-conscious Hermione removed her hand from his shoulder, not sure what else to say or how to even close this particular conversation.

"You know you're very good with Scorpius," Lucius noted. "You have very strong maternal instincts." He fixed her with his penetrating gaze. "When you were so upset over the misconduct of his governess … you have a soft, caring heart, Miss Granger. One wonders what it must be like to be loved by a witch like you."

She gulped, feeling that suffocating warmness engulf her. How could eyes so cold make her feel so hot?

"Are you planning on having children of your own in the future?" he inquired.

"Oh, maybe. Someday. I just don't think Ron is mature enough to be a father yet. I thought we'd get married once we're ready to start a family, but now that marriage is a strong possibility, I don't think we're ready for that step. I always thought at this point, we might be but … I don't know. Something feels off," she confessed, not knowing if she was making sense.

"Does that have to do with the physical side of things that you mentioned earlier?"

"Oh, I don't know. Ron's a good partner, I can't complain. We've been together before things became physical, it was never a driving motivation in our relationship. We're both sort of inexperienced and I think …" An image of her fantastical transgression popped in her mind, cutting off the rest of her sentence. If she was so cold-natured, why did she reach her peak so easily by imagining herself with Lucius? Why was it so much harder with Ron? They loved each other; they had a good relationship and have overcome so much together. No one knew her better than Ron. Isn't it supposed to be easier with a person you loved, not an alluring, dangerous wizard from the past?

"I think we're just going through a slump is all," Hermione added, feeling a little embarrassed at rambling about such a personal matter. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to bore you with all these private details. It just feels nice to talk to someone who is very levelheaded and doesn't try to tell me what to do."

Lucius shook his head. "Not at all. It's very therapeutic actually."

Hermione smiled at him. "I know I said what you tell me is confidential because I'm your solicitor, but I hope that's not the only reason you can share things with me. I'd like us to be friends."

"I don't think I've known true friendship in all of my life," he said pensively. "All I've ever made are connections, never friends."

"That's sad. I hope that can change for you soon." Hermione sincerely meant that. She could feel his need for companionship. Perhaps because it was something she longed for too. Among her friends she often couldn't relate to their lifestyle and preoccupations. Was she settling with Ron because that's what was expected of her at this point in her life? Because everyone else in her circle was starting to marry off and dash off to the country to raise a family?

She felt comfortable and liberated with Lucius because he wasn't peppering her with judgmental questions about her marital status and ticking biological clock. Looking around the room she noticed that there weren't any family photos, although there was one of two horses: one white, one chestnut.

"They're beautiful!" she exclaimed, going over to examine the photograph. She suddenly imagined him in jodhpurs on horseback and immediately felt a tingle of arousal.

He appeared startled by her enthusiasm, then looked pleased.

"Yes, my prized Arabians, Zeus and Ares," he said, smiling. "Beautiful animals. Intelligent. Spirited. I could swear I had a telepathic connection with them."

Hermione smiled at the dreamy expression on his face.

"Do you keep them in the stables here? May I see them?" she asked.

His face clouded. "No. My wife sold them when I was … away. She never cared much for them … called it my 'disgusting hobby'. She claimed to be allergic, but her main complaint was their smell. She often said I smelled like a stablehand."

"How mean! Horses are beautiful and wonderful. They're not dirty and they smell better than most humans. I'm sure yours were better cared for than 99% of people on this planet," she passionately raved, then caught herself. "No offense to your wife, I mean. Allergies suck."

He gave her a curious look. "Not at all offended. I feel exactly the same way. Do you ride, Miss Granger?"

She shook her head. "I wish. I never had the chance to learn." She handed the photo back to him. "How can anyone not love them?" she wondered out loud.

"I wish I knew," he said looking plaintively at the picture.

Shortly after that conversation Lucius invited her to have a drink with him. Despite her earlier promises to herself, Hermione couldn't refuse. After such heavy discussion, they both needed it.

"I have to warn you," she told him as he opened the drinks cabinet on the other side of the room, "I'm not much of a drinker. I don't really like the bitter taste of most wines and spirits."

Lucius poured golden liquid into a crystal tumbler and handed it to her. "You'll like this one then, it's amaretto. It has a sweet taste to it."

Hermione took a sip and smacked her lips in approval.

"How is it?" Lucius asked.

"I like the flavor."

She wasn't sure how, but somehow during the course of the night, they migrated from the ottoman to the bed as they discussed the most random topics. Hermione wasn't even sure how they started a debate on wandless magic.

"I happen to be great at it. I just prefer the wand," she argued. "The spell is stronger with a proper hand movement."

"Really?" he teased. In the next second she felt something tickle up her ribs.

She laughed. "Stop it. That's cheating!"

"Cheating? How dare you? _This_ is what true cheating looks like," he said, before tickling her under her ribs with vengeance with his own hands instead of the spell.

She squealed and squirmed away from him, vanishing the contents in her glass to avoid spilling her drink on the covers. He was relentless and continued his attack. Whether it was due to her slight inebriation or lack of balance on the plush bedding, Hermione fell across the bed. Taking advantage of her defenseless position, Lucius loomed over her to continue his assault with renewed vigor, effectively trapping her body under his.

Hermione continued laughing and wiggling, imploring him to stop. After a while, he granted her wish, but didn't move off. She stilled under him. The merriment transformed into thick tension as they stared into each other for an age. Not daring to move or to speak, Hermione lay beneath him, waiting for him to make the next move. Slowly, he reached forward and placed the back of his hand against her cheek, his palm caressing down her jaw and lower to her neck. There was something tender about his touch. It created a pleasurable tremor through her body. Hermione pressed his hand against her skin with her own. The feeling from his touch inebriated her more than any liqueur ever could. Intoxication mixed with sensuality as their hands slid down her neck together.

Unaffected by what had happened, Lucius's words were calm, "I was checking to see if you are sweating. I don't know how much alcohol you're used to consuming."

"I'm fine," Hermione assured him. "Never better actually."

"Your pulse is racing."

"I know," she whispered, her voice sounding strange to her ears. "It's always like this around you."

Without a warning, his hands came around her wrists and pinned them above her head. She gasped when she felt his lips brush along her neck. Lucius bit the flesh softly and ground his pelvis firmly against hers. Hermione couldn't do or say anything for shock. She knew she should push him away, but her body willfully disobeyed her mind.

"So much lovelier than any Danae," he murmured.

His lips brushed against her throat again. Hermione moaned in response.

In the distance, a voice of a child started to cry.

 _Scorpius!_

Immediately, Lucius released her and got off the bed. Hermione stared at him in bewilderment. He looked disheveled, panting slightly.

"Please accept my apologies, Miss Granger," he said, shaking his head, staring at the floor.

Hermione didn't reply. She was beyond stunned. What exactly had just happened between them? Not knowing what else to do, she walked out the door and scurried off to Scorpius's room, but all she could think about were those hands locked around her wrists, his strong body pressing her into the mattress, his lips on her neck … What was happening? What did it all mean?


	6. Chapter 5

**Thank you all for your patience and support, dear readers!**

 **Let me know what you think of this one, as Hermione discovers that fighting temptation is a lot harder in practice than on paper.**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

If it wasn't for her consummate professionalism, Hermione would be sorely tempted to avoid Lucius. As it was, their case received a court date, and she needed to inform him in person like she had with other minutia of the case. As much as she cringed at the things she'd said to him in her inebriated state, it would look cowardly if she kept their communication in epistolary form from now on.

She had to show him that she could move on from this incident with dignity and maturity. After all, nothing happened. Well, nothing on her part anyway. She just lay there, and he didn't really do anything to her. Both of their inhibitions were loosened by alcohol and they've bonded over problems in their respective relationships. If they weren't on the bed this incident wouldn't even have had a chance to occur. And no more incidents would arise, if they had third-party presence keeping them on their best behavior. All she had to do was get Lucius more involved with Scorpius's playtime. Yes, that was definitely a good idea. More playtime and less alcohol meant more safety in their interactions.

But even as she thought those optimistic thoughts, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about their conversation and the painting that led to it. Danaë was one of those paradigmatic damsels of the Western canon. Everyone painted her at least once; Titian did an entire series of her. Schiele's composition echoed Klimt's and Rodin's. Chantron's was pure seduction. And it reminded Lucius of her … her in his bedroom … with his body pressed firmly against hers …

Okay, perhaps thinking about that particular artwork wasn't all that safe either. As long as there were no more nudes around, there should be no distractions. With that thought, she packed a picnic hamper and set out for the Manor.

"What's all this?" Lucius asked when he greeted her in the foyer.

"I thought it would be really fun for the three of us to have a picnic outside. It's such a nice day and soon it'll be too cold for that," she answered, making her voice sound chipper.

"We're going to eat on the ground? And that's fun?" he asked with heavy skepticism in his tone.

"You mean you've never had a picnic before? Ever?" she asked with incredulity.

He shook his head. "No. Am I missing out on some profound human experience?"

"You have no idea."

Scorpius came running onto the landing at the sound of her voice and slid down the banister. Hermione caught him in her arms and spun him around. She told him of her dinner plans and the boy seemed genuinely excited.

Lucius showed them out to the back. He said there was a lake on the property that might offer pleasant picnicking spots.

"Aren't you worried about dirt getting on the food?" Lucius asked, eyeing the hamper with suspicion.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We're eating on the ground, not off the ground. We'll have a blanket to sit on and little plates and napkins." She laughed. "You look like I've just asked you to eat worms."

Soon they found the perfect spot and Hermione set everything up. Forgetting his reservations, Lucius looked like he was enjoying himself.

"So the hearing is scheduled on the 17th," she told him.

"That was quick," Lucius commented.

"I think that's a good sign because—"

"I don't like this!" Scorpius whined, hurling peas into the air. The peas scattered all over the grass and picnic blanket.

Hermione groaned and flicked her wand at the mess.

"How many times do I have to tell you to be quiet when adults are speaking?" Lucius barked at the boy.

"Scorpius, don't play with your food," Hermione chided him.

"Go to your room and stay there!" Lucius grumbled.

She disagreed, "Absolutely not. According to the reading I've been doing, punishment is not an effective way to modify bad behavior."

"And what is?"

"Loss of privileges. Another effective method to shape behavior is through positive reinforcement, according to my parenting guide," she explained, then turned to Scorpius, "Eat your vegetables or there won't be dessert."

"Miss Hermione? If I'm good will you stay to play with me?" he asked with hopeful expression on his face.

She smiled at him. "Only if you're really, really good. Now finish up your carrots and then you can these delicious cookies." She held up the bag with her chocolate fudge specialty.

The boy's eyes widened and he proceeded to clean his plate with vigor.

"Well done. What do I need a governess for when I have you?" Lucius remarked with an amused smirk.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up and quickly changed the topic, "As I was saying, I have all paperwork you've given me, which shows that the law wasn't properly followed in your case. We have a good chance at demonstrating that a violation has occurred." She nervously chewed on her lip. "I'm not sure if the sale will be invalidated, however. Of course, I will argue that it should be. But I've been told in cases like this one usually only monetary compensation is offered. Usually."

He frowned. "We'll see what happens."

Not long after that, the sun dipped low in the sky, and the temperature cooled. They packed up their things and walked back.

Scorpius was quick to hold Hermione to her promise, and she joined him in a banister sliding race. Lucius slunk into the shadows and retired to his study. She wanted to cajole him into staying and participating in the fun, but refrained. She was of opinion that he should spend more time with his grandson playing and bonding, but she didn't want to push the issue. Not to mention, Hermione was secretly relieved to be out of his company. During the picnic he made no mention of their drunken antics, and she was surprised to find her feelings torn on his silence. She thought she'd be relieved, or even happy that he ignored the topic entirely. However, she couldn't shake the niggling sense of disappointment. Somehow, a tiny, minuscule part of her was hoping he'd bring it up.

It was a stupid, irrational thought. How was he supposed to broach the topic with his grandson around? Still Hermione hoped to see some sort of sign that he wanted to discuss it later. As she raced up and down the stairs with Scorpius and glided down the steep incline of the rail, she was at war with herself. Like a pendulum, her feelings on last night swayed to and fro. She didn't even know what she wanted from Mr. Malfoy. If anything, it might be a validation that he's feeling the same inappropriate attraction that she is, but what would it do? It's not like either one of them was in a position to act on it. Even if she was single, he wasn't. Would she even want to be with a wizard who would leave a comatose wife for another witch? No matter how badly their marriage deteriorated that would be a low move, even if Narcissa did ask for a separation before her accident. And what if it's only an infatuation that will run its course? Sexual attraction wasn't good enough reason for them to break up their families if they will get tired of each other within months, if not weeks.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione miscalculated her distance as she neared the end and landed without magic to slow her descend. Her left ankle twisted painfully in her shoe as her feet made contact with the floor. She really should have taken off her pumps before they started this game, but the Malfoy residence didn't look like the sort where one felt at ease going barefoot. With low heels and magic to slow her down, she thought she'd be safe.

At the sound of her painful yelp, Scorpius rushed off to find Lucius, who quickly appeared at her side and sent his grandson upstairs. Lucius's cravat hung unknotted at the collar, and he'd unfastened the top few buttons of his formal shirt. Despite her pain, Hermione couldn't help her curious stares at the extra skin peeking at her.

 _He's so sexy…_ It was almost annoying how naturally it came to him.

The intriguing wizard dropped to one knee in front of her, and Hermione stifled a little gasp as he took a hold of her leg. "Let me see that."

Involuntary giggle escaped from her as he removed her pump — his touch was warm and firm, but her feet had always been unspeakably ticklish.

"Relax, Miss Granger," he ordered gently, manipulating her ankle this way and that.

His eyes locked with hers with a vexing intensity, as he read intuitively her slightest winces and whimpers. Lucius didn't ask Hermione what hurt. He didn't need to. He checked her pulses, and softly massaged the sole of her foot. She did her very best to keep herself from squirming. His touch was torture.

"It's not broken," he announced, releasing her. "You have an eversion sprain. Try to keep your weight off it for a few days — elevation, pressure, and ice." He helped her limp into the kitchen and walked to the freezer.

Hermione cringed as he took a handful of ice and some plastic wrap, and proceeded to mummify her ankle in a cold cast.

"Now let's get you to bed."

She bit her lip. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, but I should just get home. I've imposed on you enough."

His grey eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Hermione from head to toe. Her cheeks reddened, even as her ankle blanched.

"Is Mr. Weasley at home?" he asked.

"Ron? Oh …um… no. He's working the nightshift again. But I'll be fine. I'll just go to bed," she said.

"You cannot be alone with an injury like this. What if you fall and hit your head? By the time anyone discovers, it could be too late."

"But I don't want to put you to so much trouble," she protested.

"What trouble? An entire Quidditch team could be housed here with no problems."

Hermione couldn't figure out Lucius. He certainly took physical liberties and spoke sometimes with insufferable hauteur, but there was a touch of care in his manners. He seemed genuinely interested in her well-being.

"Did you get enough to eat, Miss Granger? You're shivering, and that burns calories."

She averted her eyes and eagerly nodded. "Plenty, thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Then I'll show you to your room."

She followed him out, hobbling along awkwardly with her makeshift cast. The ice had taken away most of the pain, but she could also barely feel a thing in her foot.

He mounted the staircase, but Hermione parried, considering how best to tackle them. She took the first step without unreasonable difficulty, but stumbled almost immediately at the second.

Lucius whirled around, catching her under the arm before she could fall.

"Damn it! Miss Granger, are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "No. Sorry. Just ..." She stumbled nervously in his grasp. "I can't feel it."

He narrowed his icy eyes on her legs and, without the slightest warning, scooped her up into his arms.

Cradled against him, her knees bobbed helplessly over his elbows as he started climbing.

 _Good Lord, he's strong..._ She knew as a petite girl she wasn't heavy or anything, but he didn't seem to be straining in the least to carry her up a whole full flight of stairs. Spending years in the male-dominated Weasley household Hermione was used to being lifted against her will, but she always feared of being accidentally dropped. Lucius Malfoy's steady breathing and his enveloping embrace dissipated all those fears. All that remained was embarrassment. Her skin was flushed red as blood. And the whole while, Hermione couldn't stand to look at him — their faces were so close together, she could almost feel his evening stubble grazing her cheek.

At last they reached the second floor, and he carried her down the corridor in silence. Her chagrin at needing to be carried like this had rendered Hermione speechless. She hated how it made her look weak, like some damsel-in-distress. She was used to taking care of herself and not depend on anybody to come to her rescue. Evidently, he wasn't bothered by his brazen actions, as if this wasn't a strange occurrence to him to carry injured witches up his stairs.

The hall was quiet and darker near the end near his door, but he didn't carry her there; he turned in the opposite direction and deposited her inside the room closer to Scorpius's than his own.

"You should find everything you need in there," he said. "If not, you can call Stokey, the house-elf — she lives for that sort of thing." Lucius took a half step closer to her. "And stay warm — it can get very drafty around here."

She nodded, blushing. It seemed he'd taken care of everything.

"Mr. Malfoy… " Hermione started, unsure of where her words were taking her. For all his oddity and peremptoriness, in the end he'd been kind and attentive. "Thank you," she breathed out.

"It's best you'd get some rest, Miss Granger," he pointed into the room. "And stay warm."

She smirked. "You just said that."

"I meant it. Good night." There was an unmistakable air of finality in his voice that disappointed Hermione.

"Good night." Dropping her eyes, she obeyed, listening as he drew the door closed behind her.

She sank against it, her exhaustion breaking over her like an ocean wave. Hermione could hear his muffled footsteps through the door, receding back down the corridor towards his own bedroom. Then silence.

Hermione was alone, and already half-asleep. She didn't bother with lighting her wand. The moment her palm found the soft surface of the duvet, she sat on the bed and peeled off her clothes, then sank onto it, falling asleep as soon as her cheek touched the pillow.

That night she dreamt she was hunted. She dreamt of a wolf with white fur and alarming silver eyes, chasing her down in a forest of fir trees until she collapsed, winded and defeated.

* * *

Working from home in the following days was boring. Hermione wanted to resume her visits, but Lucius was strict about letting her ankle heal. For whatever reason, she felt the need to obey him, to win his approval. When she was well enough to freely walk again, she visit the Manor again. Scorpius was overjoyed to see her, and Lucius inquired about her ankle. After they discussed the case in more details, the little boy insisted on a game of hide-and-seek. Hermione agreed and nearly fell over when Lucius joined them as well. She smiled at him. There was something growing in that wizard. Despite his initial reservations, he was making an effort with his grandson. Perhaps soon she will no longer be needed as a playmate. It was a bittersweet thought, but they were family, and it was only right that Scorpius should have a bond with Lucius that was stronger than his bond with her.

On Lucius's turn as seeker, Hermione made a mad dash into his room. She wasn't sure what made her think of it, but she found herself hiding in his spacious closet with a hand clamped over her mouth to suppress the nervous laughter that bubbled inside her.

After several minutes she heard the door open, heard his measured footsteps on the wooden floor, and held her breath. Playing hide and seek had never felt so thrilling. The idea of being caught in his bedroom was even more exciting! Immediately, Hermione admonished herself for thinking such lascivious thoughts. This was just a game, nothing more. It was perfectly innocent. After all, Scorpius was playing too; it's not like they were alone.

The room became eerily quiet. Hermione couldn't hear a thing. Had he left and moved on to another part of the house already?

She cracked open the door a fraction and peeked out. She saw Lucius's back to her as he peered under the bed.

"It's only a matter of time before I find you, Miss Granger," he crooned. His soft and teasing voice sent shivers down her spine. Slowly, she backed away from the door and noiselessly slipped behind a thick winter cloak.

The door opened to the closet.

Hermione held her breath. Her insides twisted as Lucius stepped closer, illuminated by the wand light. His eyes narrowed, his mouth pulled tight in concentration, his smooth pale cheek just begging to be touched…

He walked past her hiding place, then the light from his wand was extinguished. The sudden plunge into darkness startled her and Hermione gasped in surprise.

The cloak before her was yanked away and those strong, beautiful hands lunged at her, grasping her by the waist.

"Found you," Lucius proudly announced.

"That was a rotten trick, Lucius Malfoy!" she said, attempting in vain to calm her racing heart.

"It wasn't a trick. Shouting fire is a trick; this was merely a tactic. Learn the difference, Miss Granger," he responded in whisper.

"Fine. It was a rotten tactic," she whispered back. Why were they whispering?

He still had his arms around her.

"Your pulse is racing again," he said.

"I told you…" She licked her lips, not wanting to repeat those embarrassing words again.

"Because of me. Is it out of fear? Are you afraid of me?" he queried, his lips brushing below her ear.

"No," she breathed out. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Then what?" he pressed.

"I cannot say…" Hermione answered.

"Then don't use words."

He put two fingers under her chin to lift her face up before he leaned in and possessively seized her mouth with his.

To say that Lucius Malfoy simply kissed her would be a lie. He inflicted himself upon her. His lips swept over hers demanding absolute surrender to him. And Hermione capitulated to his attack, enjoying the way his firm lips moved over hers and the way his tongue explored her mouth. He slid his hand to the back of her neck and pressed his body fully against hers. She melted into him, moaning shamelessly into his mouth.

She couldn't believe Lucius Malfoy was kissing her. She couldn't believe she was kissing him back. This was madness.

He was married.

She was with Ron.

He shouldn't be doing this.

She shouldn't be doing this.

Hermione tried to pull back, but her attempt was feeble at best. His kiss continued to liquify all the bones in her body. His mouth fused forcefully with hers, dissolving further protests. Somehow her hands found their way to his shoulders, clutching at the luxurious fabric of his shirt. She needed air now, but didn't want him to stop for fear of discovering it was all a daydream.

Then he pulled back, and her lungs greedily sucked in much-needed oxygen. Her chest rapidly rose up and down as she attempted to normalize her breathing. Hermione looked at him, and he was just as breathless.

"We shouldn't have done that," she said, not making the slightest move to leave. "It's wrong."

 _If it's so wrong, why are you still here with him? Go home, make some excuse, say you hear Scorpius!_ Her conscious screamed at her to get out of there. No good could come from this. She just became a cheater, she just broke her professional ethics, but none of it was enough to prompt her departure.

"I disagree," he said before plundering her mouth again.

Hermione clutched at his shirt as she returned his kiss, her hand grasping the back of his neck. Just one more kiss, and then they would profusely apologize and go back to their lives. Just one more … and only one more.

Just. One. More.


	7. Chapter 6

**Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing!**

 **Hope you'll enjoy this update,**

 **Lana**

* * *

Hermione's heart threatened to pound right out of her chest, as she continued to kiss Lucius. She lost count of kisses, she lost track of time period; she was lost in the private paradise that was Lucius's mouth. His lips were so warm, so demanding. His arms tightened around her as he lifted her up. Whether it was the confined, stuffy closet space or the heat of his intense embrace, she began to feel lightheaded and giddy. No kiss had ever felt like this. Hermione thought it was almost as though she had never really been kissed before and was only discovering it now for the first time.

She ran the back of her hand across his cheek, as their kiss slowed down and became sweeter. Her heart soared at his tenderness. He wasn't merely satisfying his lust with the first available witch.

A nagging thought made its way from the back of her mind. If her emotions didn't count as cheating, this did. Ron would be devastated if he found out. Guilt rolled over her, and Hermione pulled away from Lucius's arms.

"We shouldn't do this," she repeated again. Was it all she was capable of saying?

He gazed back at her with his liquifying eyes. "And yet we can't fight it. Admit it, you feel it too."

His words rung in her ears. Ever since she took his case, Hermione's life had turned upside down. With each day, she was growing more and more attracted to him and desperately fighting her treacherous feelings. Nothing seemed to work. Even when she was with Ron like last time they had sex … Lucius was there. Still she enjoyed the tentative friendship they've been building. He even opened up to her about being estranged from both his wife and son before their tragic accident. He had survived so much and was still so strong, how could she not admire him?

She was more confused than ever. Did this mean that Ron was all wrong for her? Did her attraction to Lucius was a sign that she should end things with Ron? But how could she leave him for a married man? That wouldn't even begin to solve the predicament she found herself in.

Lucius cupped her chin. His eyes twinkled with unspoken happiness, and Hermione noticed the tiny laugh lines that appeared at the corners of his eyes. He was just so … Lucius.

Pushing away her guilt, Hermione kissed him again. For the moment she was with him, and nothing felt more right. Consequences will have to be dealt with soon enough, within minutes even. But for now, she just wanted one more kiss.

"We'd better go find Scorpius before he falls asleep," Hermione said after a while, laughing lightly.

He stepped back and guided her out.

Her expression turned serious, as she self-consciously smoothed down her hair. "We'd better act normal," she told him.

Lucius gave her a small smile. "You think he'll figure it out?"

"Children are very perceptive. And we really have to talk about this after we put him to bed," she said, feeling troubled.

"You are one demanding witch," he said with sly smile.

"You have to be demanding in order to survive Weasley household. If you don't speak up, you get left out. That's the down side of being part of a large family."

"I wouldn't know," he replied gravely.

Hermione looked up at him. "Do you have any brothers or sisters? Or cousins?"

"No. None. I was an only child, so were my parents."

"Same here. I bet you were spoiled rotten, huh?" she teased him. Right away she realized she said something wrong.

Lucius tensed. "I was never particularly close to my parents."

"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to bring up unpleasant memories."

His face relaxed and he looked at her warmly. "No, it's fine," he reassured her.

Hermione didn't know how to proceed, but she still felt awful for bringing up bad memories.

"It's really all right," Lucius continued. "Like I said, we weren't very close."

It must have been terrible to grow up without loving parents … or any siblings to share the burden with him. How lonely.

"I'm sorry you've been through so much," she said.

He stopped and placed a hand under her chin. A tingling sensation rushed through her body at his touch. She couldn't feel the ground under her feet and her pulse raced.

"I'm starting to learn that it's best to leave the past where it belongs. It's too exhausting to dwell on it," he told her.

They were soon interrupted by Scorpius and busied themselves putting the boy to bed. Afterwards Lucius invited her back to his room.

"That's not a good idea," Hermione declined. "I think we should have this conversation in another room."

He smirked. "Don't trust me near my enormous bed, or don't trust yourself?"

"It's not a question of trust, but a question of propriety. I shouldn't be alone in any bedroom with any wizard, not just you," she said primly.

They walked into his study, and Hermione moved to take her usual seat across from his desk in vain attempt to keep things business-like, but he took her hand and escorted her to a love-seat. Conflicting emotions overcame her: happiness, excitement, and guilt simultaneously battled within her. She was astounded that his feelings were mutual, but she also knew that there was nothing they could do about them. His arm snaked effortlessly around her shoulders, and she felt suddenly very shy. Hermione stared at the floor, then finally gathered the courage to look up at him.

A crushing wave of disappointment rocked through her as she spoke, "Mr. Malfoy, what happened was a mistake. I really hope we can put this behind us and not let it spoil our professional or personal relationship."

The gleam in his eyes faded. "A mistake? It didn't feel like a mistake. Mistake is what you do only once, not over and over for almost half an hour."

"Half an hour?" she cried out in shock, then it dawned on her. "Oh, you're teasing me again. At any rate, I'd like to apologize for my part in this. I think I may have given you the wrong impression the other day when I revealed certain personal details about my life. I know you're estranged from your wife, but my situation is vastly different, even if I implied otherwise. I'd really like to move past this."

"And what if we can't?" he challenged her.

Her heart nearly broke with sadness. "We have to," she said quietly. "We're not free to act on our feelings, whatever they may be. Neither of us is in a position to offer anything to the other."

He looked away. "I disagree. I think there's plenty to offer."

"No, no, no. We're turning to each other because we're both unhappy right now. Misery loves company and all that. If your wife hadn't sent that letter, you'd feel very differently about this. People do things in anger that they regret all the time," Hermione explained. "Once she recovers, I'm sure she won't cling to old grievances. Perhaps this tragedy will make her see things in different light. And she'll need you. She'll need you to help her grieve for Draco. With time, you two could reconcile and be happy again. You'll be grateful you didn't throw that chance away for a fleeting attraction. Besides, even if you don't get back together, no one wants to wake up to the most awful news and then deal with an adultery on top of it."

Anger flashed in his eyes. "This is hardly adultery. She made it clear she wanted to live apart for the rest of our lives. The only reason she didn't want to use the word divorce is that she's still very image conscious. No one in her family has ever been divorced, so it's nothing but smoking mirrors to save face before everyone by having me file for it first. She wants to look like the burdened, loyal wife. She wants to look like a victim, so she'll come out looking better in comparison! There will never be a reconciliation, Miss Granger."

He was angry. She was sure it meant that he still cared. Of course, he did.

"But turning to each won't solve our relationship problems, it will create new ones," Hermione added. "We shouldn't complicate each other's lives. We'd feel awful about it in the long-run."

He looked into her eyes and his expression softened. "I understand."

Hermione knew that she had to let go and not give in to their inappropriate urges anymore. Taking the awkward silence as her cue, she stood up and announced her intentions to leave.

"May I escort you home?" he asked.

She tried not to look horrified. "Thank you, but it's not necessary. I'll use the Floo as usual." Flashing him a tight smile, she backed away from the room and used the fireplace in the sitting room where they first had tea.

"What a mess," she muttered as she stepped through her own fireplace.

"Hey, babe. What kept you so late?" Ron's voice startled her, and she nearly screamed.

"Oh, Mr. Malfoy and I were discussing his case." She hoped he wouldn't notice how flustered she was. "Our court date is on the seventeenth, so we don't have much time to prepare." That wasn't a lie, although she surprised herself with how quickly she conjured up that explanation.

"Seventeenth? But it's your birthday! I've made special plans."

She rolled her eyes. "Our hearing is not going to take all day. I'll be home no later than my usual time."

"Just make sure it's before dinner. Ever since you've taken his case, you've been out late," Ron complained.

Hermione summoned all her willpower not to roll her eyes again. "Because this is an extra responsibility in addition to my regular working hours, I have to work on it in my spare time, which is in the evenings. After our hearing, we won't have to meet as much … depending on how it goes, of course." Much to her chagrin, it was probably true. If the results of the hearing were positive, she and Lucius wouldn't really have a reason to meet as much.

"So Malfoy … is he all right to you?"

"Yes, he's very civil and his grandson is just the sweetest little boy."

Ron sneered. "Wonder where he got that from."

"Don't be vile," she admonished him as she put her things away.

"I'm not. I'm just saying. Considering the father and grandfather, I'd figured he'd be a little demon."

Hermione glared at him, not saying a word.

"What? What did I say?" He threw up his arms.

"You're projecting on Scorpius qualities you don't know he has simply because of his relatives. You can't hold a little boy responsible for the actions of his family. He didn't choose to be a Malfoy anymore than you chose to be a Weasley."

Ron looked puzzled. "That's not what I said. Blimey, Hermione! Is it that time of the month or what?"

"Nice one, Ron." She marched past him into the lavatory to wash up.

"Ah, don't get upset. You're the one who's putting words in my mouth."

"Just forget it," she said over the running water. She scrubbed at her hands, trying to wash away the guilt.

Was she bored with Ron? Were her feelings for Lucius real? Was it just lust because it's something that's missing in her relationship with Ron? But after six years, wouldn't the same thing happen with Lucius? She wrung her hands, feeling confused. She didn't know what to make of it all. As she got ready for bed, she couldn't bear the thought of hurting Ron. She did love him. But she felt something for Lucius as well. She couldn't name the feeling. It felt lustful, but somehow deeper. It was like she was in a grip of some force that threatened to eradicate everything she held dear in her life.

Perhaps when a certain man comes along – the only one in a lifetime – he will cause the woman to reevaluate her life's choice. After all, it took special men to lure Helen into abandoning Sparta … to make Juliet plunge the knife into her heart … to drive Queen Juana mad with grief. It couldn't be just lust. Not all of it.

But could she actually break up with the man she had cared about for so long? And for what? To have an affair that would leave her heartbroken. But Lucius … he had a hold on her she couldn't shake.

Tears welled up in her eyes, as she silently cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, she skipped breakfast. Her appetite completely deserted her. Food just made her think of the picnic with Lucius. She knew she did the right thing by everyone, but she was greatly agitated; everything annoyed her. Still she was resolved to be true to her words. She wasn't going to allow any more intimate moments to occur between them. In order for their relationship to regain its platonic tone, they had to cool things off. But her heart ached at the thought.

Her attempts at rejuvenating her relationship with Ron met with epic failure. The only intimacy she could stand were a few kisses before bed, which only managed to make Hermione more frustrated and guilty. Nothing, nothing in Ron Weasley's technique or feeling resembled anything of Lucius, and that fact alone made it impossible for her to enjoy even those small gestures. It wasn't always like that. Her change in attitude could only be attributed to her own changing feelings. She knew Ron wanted things to get more physical, but she couldn't risk having sex again. What if she blurted out Lucius's name by mistake? Every time she touched herself in the shower, she came with his name on her lips. She couldn't even control it anymore. Until she could, sex with Ron just wasn't an option.

* * *

On her first post-snogging visit to the Malfoy Manor on Saturday, Hermione remained completely professional. She did, however, agree to accompany Lucius to a matinee showing of the _Phantom of the Opera_. It was a perfectly neutral, unromantic activity, so she saw no reason not to go. More importantly, it was a safe activity given that they would be out in public. They both would have to be on their best behavior in public.

"It was beautiful, but sad," Hermione said dreamily as she and Lucius discussed the opera over dessert at Wordsworth's.

He agreed, "Unrequited love usually is. But some things just wouldn't have the same meaning with a happy ending."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. Before her was the difference between Lucius and Ron. She and Ron rarely attended opera or theater; Ron preferred action movies to both. He was more interested in the entertainment value of visual art than its meaning.

Immediately, she felt guilty for her disloyal thoughts. It was bad enough she was having a great time with Lucius under a pretext of working, but she didn't want to put down her boyfriend for having different interests.

She felt a hand on hers. "What's the matter?" Lucius asked her, his brow creasing with concern.

"Nothing," she squeaked out, taking a bite of her cappuccino cake. At his touch, without warning, her blood began pound in her veins. How her body missed him!

"I'm not entirely convinced by that," he said, cocking his head slightly.

He leaned closer, and she could smell his clean, masculine scent. He even smelled perfect! And he was so close … so close she could just touch his lips if she leaned in the same way.

Hermione pulled away, feeling dizzy. She took a big gulp of water. She knew she couldn't risk behaving like this in public. When she was around Lucius, she seemed to lose all hold on her senses.

"I have to get home," she said. "Tomorrow's the Blackstone Ball, and there's still so much I have to do to prepare."

They've said their goodbyes and left separately.

Although Hermione prepared to lose herself in her own secret quagmire, all thoughts of that plan went out the window when she saw Lucius there. It was the last thing she expected.

Blast him!

No matter who she spoke to or what she did, she was always aware of his presence in the room. Unbidden memories of him kept springing up. To her horror, she felt a secret flame of arousal stir within her, and she grew moist between her thighs. Guilty, she glanced at Ron. He was absorbed in a conversation with some Ministry official. If only she could steer clear of Lucius for the rest of the evening.

Yet already she knew in her heart that this was not what neither he nor she wanted. He didn't come all this way to play it so. His stalking eyes conveyed as much as she circulated among other guests. When she and Ron took to the dance floor, Hermione had a feeling that Lucius had planned something; nothing too drastic to make her worry, but he certainly didn't come here to just watch her from across the room all night.

Not long into her dance with Ron, Lucius appeared behind the redheaded wizard and tapped him on the shoulder. Ron turned his head and froze, clinging to Hermione in vice grip.

"May I cut in?" he asked.

Ron hesitated, glaring at the older wizard.

Hermione answered for her boyfriend, "You may, Mr. Malfoy."

Ron had no choice but to yield the floor to Lucius and stalked off without a backward glance.

She moved into Lucius's arms. Oh, he smelled so very, very good!

"You didn't say you were coming here tonight as well," she said, looking into his seductive eyes.

"I didn't exactly merit an invitation," he confessed.

Her hand moved to the nape of his neck. "You always come to these events uninvited?"

"Only when the company is irresistible," he whispered in her ear before dipping her. "I've never been thrown out yet."

The air left her lungs at the unexpected move. "Not once?" she asked.

Lucius leaned over her. The ends of his hair brushed over her décolletage, and the sexual flame she felt all night burst into life.

"Never," he growled against her neck before swaying her back to upright position.

She laughed from exhilaration.

"It's probably because you turn a dull evening into exciting one," Hermione hypothesized.

"You think so? Is that what I have done for you tonight?" he queried.

"Oh, yes! Most definitely!" she enthused.

A beguiling spark lit up his eyes. "Then I know how you can repay me."

"How?"

"Dance with me for the rest of the night."

She shrugged. "If you insist."

Lucius dipped her again, eliciting another laugh from her. Hermione knew that their behavior might raise a few eyebrows, but she wasn't about to pass up a rare opportunity to stay in his arms for the rest of the night. After all, dancing was not cheating.

* * *

 **But for how long can they keep dancing this way?**


	8. Chapter 7

**I'm happy you're all enjoying the story so far! Thank you for all your comments! I know we're all ready for Hermione to ditch Ron, and she takes a huge step in that direction here!**

* * *

Dancing with Lucius made Hermione feel more alive and at peace than she had all week. It was as if someone had taken a key and unlocked the secret cell door, which held her soul captive. As they moved around the dance floor, time itself lost its significance and stood still. Lucius was a passionate dancer, who showed no inhibitions no matter what tune they danced to. The fire in his eyes and the rhythm of music almost hypnotized Hermione as he spun her around, edging them closer to the French doors that opened onto the fragrant rose garden.

The next song was slower, more romantic. Her head rested on his shoulder as Lucius held her tenderly to him.

Warm breath tickled her ear, as he spoke, "I've been watching you all evening."

She smiled. "If I hadn't known any better, I'd be frightened by such sinister statements."

His chest rocked with silent laughter. "I noticed you're not very thrilled to be here," he said.

"Very keen observation. I'm not. We go every year; it's always the same … until now … until you, it was always an obligation."

"And what is it with me?" he inquired.

"A pleasure."

"I want to be alone with you," Lucius murmured in her ear.

"Impossible," Hermione said sternly.

"Nothing's impossible," he contradicted her. He continued to dance her toward the doors that led to the garden. The cool air of early autumn evening greeted them once they stepped outside. He danced her around, behind the tall bank of hedges that bordered the Minister of Magic's official residence.

"We shouldn't be here," Hermione warned him, but all reprimand was gone from her voice.

"We're not doing anything wrong. I just want to dance with you the way I want to without any blathering onlookers."

A tantalizing shiver ran down her spine. "Just dancing, promise?"

"Of course. Only dancing." His hands moved from her waist to just above her buttocks, gently caressing her through her dress.

"That's not dancing," she chided him.

"My sincere apologies. My hands slipped," he said, leaving them exactly where they were.

Her arms around his neck tightened. "Something tells me it's not true," Hermione murmured into his neck, inhaling more of his intoxicating aroma.

"Then command them to most desired position."

"I can't," she said, gripping his shoulders harder.

 _It is most desired … in public, at least._

Their bodies floated together as one, as they continued to move in rhythm to distant tune. Emboldened by her acquiescence, Lucius ground her against him. Hermione moaned at the contact against the unmistakable outline of his cock. White light flashed behind her lids, and she quickly jerked away from him. Her eyes locked with his, and she felt her cheeks flush.

The most incredible want pumped through her veins. She wanted to kiss him again. She wanted it so badly she thought her mouth wither and crumble without his touch. But she resisted. Turning away from him, Hermione slowly counted backwards from ten.

"Let's go back," she finally said. "Please."

With a nod, they walked back inside and spent the rest of evening on the dance floor. When it was time to leave, Lucius escorted Hermione back to Ron, who reeked of alcohol.

"Thank you for letting me steal your date, Mr. Weasley," Lucius said in a tone that conveyed something more than mere politeness. Before Ron could make a scathing remark, the blond wizard turned back to Hermione. "You are a marvelous partner, Miss Granger. We must do this again sometime."

She smiled at him and returned his compliment before they bid each other good night.

"Ready to go?" she asked, turning to Ron.

"Am I ever," he huffed, then stalked off towards the fireplace to Floo home without saying another word to her. Hermione suppressed a groan, she knew she'd pay for this pleasure. If this was all she can ever have with Lucius, she'll take it. She'll accept Ron's resentment. It was the minor of two hurts she could inflict on him. If he had the knowledge of her real betrayal, he'd hurt even more.

The next morning, Hermione woke up in a cheerful mood, still buoyant from dancing with Lucius. It was heaven, it was hell, but she still had the time of her life. She knew that Ron wouldn't be as happy with yesterday's events. The moment she greeted him in the kitchen, her suspicions were confirmed – he was angry.

Ron barely acknowledged her presence until she was half-way through her breakfast.

"Do we still have that pain relieving potion?" he asked after he gulped down another cup of coffee.

"You're so grumpy in the mornings," Hermione commented. "And yes. It's in the bathroom. You know you really shouldn't drink so much. Fire-whisky is nothing but headache juice. After so many hangovers, I'd like to think you learned your lesson."

"Well, I wouldn't have to drink so much if my girlfriend didn't spend the whole night dancing with a Death Eater," he retorted.

"I knew you'd be unreasonable about this. You make it sound like it was something disrespectful. It was only dancing. Remember when I returned to Hogwarts for my N.E.W.T.s and couldn't go with you? You attended alone and danced with every pretty witch in the room. And remember last year when you hurt your knee and Ginny was ill? I danced mostly with Harry, and you didn't care."

"Well, Harry didn't act like you were his date! Malfoy showed no interest in dancing with anyone but you all evening!" Ron burst out, slamming his mug onto the table. "And he called you my date! You're my girlfriend, not date! Bloody git!"

"He only danced with me because I'm the only person who didn't act like he had some contagious disease. It was a social event, and we had to socialize with people other than each other. This Othello routine is very unattractive, Ron. You were free to do the same. It's not like I expected you to stay on the sidelines all night. He's a terrific dancer, and I had a good time with him, is that a crime?"

His eyes blazed. "You didn't have to dance with him for so long! And you certainly didn't have to look like you were having _that_ good a time!"

She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling both guilty and defensive. "Well, how was I supposed to look? Sullen and miserable?"

"I don't like the way he looked at you. I don't like him!" he said, raising his voice. "You should just drop that case. No other Solicitor-General ever took charity cases, so you don't have to either."

"So just because you don't like someone I can't be friends with that person?" she asked, bristling at his tone. "I'm not going to leave him hanging. I'm seeing this through. It's not charity, when he's paying me so well for it. More importantly, I like spending time with him," she admitted sincerely. "He's been nice to me, and he and Scorpius could use more support after what they've been through."

Ron turned pink, his jaw shaking. "You and Harry are so freaking blind when it comes to this family, it's ridiculous! Keep feeling sorry for them! If the shoe was on the other foot, they wouldn't have lifted a finger for you."

She groaned into her juice and tried to pacify him, "Ron, let's just not argue, okay? The Ministry's closed today, so let's just enjoy one of the few days we have off together."

He stormed off from the table without another remark. Hermione picked at her toast. If she was an impulsive, selfish person, this row would be a perfect prelude a break-up discussion. As it was, she dreamily stared off into space, reliving the dances she had with Lucius.

(LINE1)

Despite the fact that her black court robes would cover her attire, Hermione wanted to look her best for their court date. She needed to look professional and confident. Why she chose her newest soft jersey dress in lilac for this purpose was another matter entirely. True, the dress was professional, but it also accentuated her body, giving her an undeniably sexy air. She even added a swipe of mascara and lipstick, and spritzed a dash of her favorite perfume behind each ear.

 _What's wrong with me?_ she scolded herself. She never wore perfume to court before. But then, she never attended it with Lucius Malfoy. She excused her actions with another reason: her twenty-fifth birthday. That could very well count for the extra efforts she was making this day.

It was to the credit of her professionalism and experience that Hermione argued the Malfoy case with equal measure of passion and persuasion before the judge without being distracted by the new personal developments with her client. The counter-argument only took five minutes and sounded weak in comparison to hers. It never even discounted the evidence she found about the notification requirement. She left the courtroom feeling extremely confident, especially once the judge set the verdict date for next Monday. The fact that judge only set aside the weekend for decision was a good sign. In her experience, it meant that the decision was already made in their favor; skipping to the next week day was a mere formality.

She enthusiastically shared her views with Lucius, feeling happy for him.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off and join me for lunch at the Manor in an hour?" he suggested. "I know we have a lot more than the verdict to celebrate."

Hermione's buoyancy slightly faded, as she silently considered her answer. She shouldn't seek opportunities to be alone with him.

"We really shouldn't get ahead of ourselves with celebrations, Mr. Malfoy," she cautioned.

He smirked. "I happen to know a more important reason for us to toast. If I'm correct, it's somebody's birthday today."

Her face broke into a wide grin. "You're correct."

"Come then. You've worked hard for me when you didn't even have to take this on. I owe you." He winked at her.

Unable to turn him down, she nodded. "I have some things to drop off at the Ministry, but I'll be there. One hour?"

"One hour," he echoed.

Hermione returned to the Ministry and informed her secretary of her absence for the rest of the day. She tossed off her court robes and touched up her make-up, before taking the Floo Network to Malfoy Manor.

Lucius greeted her. She wanted to ask Scorpius to join them, but was informed that he was busy with his tutor. Ushering her outside, Lucius took her along their picnic route, except now a gazebo stood there, overlooking the shimmering azure lake.

"When did you have this done?" she asked in amazement.

"Oh, not long after you hurt your ankle," he said as though it was the most ordinary thing to do. Hermione looked around and the grounds seemed to be greener and better groomed.

In the middle of the gazebo stood a picnic table. As they got closer Hermione could see a spray of lilies and pink roses with birthday sign hanging above them. Next to them stood two crystal glasses and a bottle of champagne. She surveyed the beautiful layout and smiled at him.

"You didn't have to do this!" she gushed. "But I'm so touched that you did. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Please, call me Lucius. I insist," he said. "May I offer you a glass?"

She nodded, looking out onto the pair of swans swimming nearby. They toasted to her birthday, and soon after the house-elf brought them their lunch. Hermione was relieved that things were normal, that the tension from the Blackstone night wasn't there anymore.

After they finished eating, she felt something soft land on her shoulders. She looked up. Red and gold rose petals rained down on her, playfully swirling around her. Laughing, she got up and twirled with them. It was very reminiscent of Zeus's seduction of Danae. Few minutes later, it all stopped, and she looked at Lucius in astonishment, not sure what to say about his unusual present.

He came up to her. There was an undisguised admiration in his eyes. "You look so beautiful in this color that no other woman in the world could ever do it justice," he said.

The nearness of his body worked its magic on her again. Hermione stepped back to get out of his aura, knowing she must be beet red. Why did he have this effect on her? She was quickly losing her resolve.

"Happy Birthday," he said seconds before his mouth captured hers in another one of his bone-melting kisses.

She kissed him back without hesitation. There was nothing more to say on the subject; they'd said it all.

"I've been dreaming of this ever since the last time," she confessed in between their kisses. "I thought I'd go mad." Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she was sure he could hear it.

"Me too," he said.

Hermione was so happy in this moment. It didn't matter that he was married, and that she was with Ron. She didn't even care that she was meeting Ron later for dinner at Wordsworth's.

"You've been fighting this every step of the way, but you have to admit that it's real now. Only fools think they have a choice when it comes to love," Lucius said, holding her tightly.

She felt as though she could kiss him in this paradisiacal place forever. And she almost did. Time flew and soon it grew dark around them.

"I have another surprise," he told her, directing her attention to the dark waters. "Watch."

"What am I looking for?" she asked, not sure what she was supposed to be seeing.

Then the night boomed around in her in the most vivid explosion of colors.

Fireworks! For her!

They popped and crackled in the air. White, violet, green, red, blue, and fuchsia lit up the sky in dazzling display. In lieu of a grand finale, a birthday message appeared in brilliant bold letters: **HAPPY 25th BIRTHDAY!**

"That was amazing … incredible… You're incredible!" She turned to face him and found herself only inches from his face again. She didn't think her heart could take anymore excitement for one day. The attraction between her and Lucius was overwhelming.

His lips were centimeters from hers, as he softly spoke, "Hermione, admit it: this is real. Inconvenient, wrong, whatever else you want to call it, but real."

She swayed on her feet. "But we're not free to act on this connection. I never had any ambitions to become someone's Madame de Pompadour. I'm really attracted to you, but this … I can't do this. I know you can't do anything about your situation now, but I don't want to be a cheater. This has been the most perfect day … the best birthday, but I just can't. I have to go meet Ron for dinner at Wordsworth's. I'm sorry. I must go."

Feeling the tears sting her mascaraed eyes, she fled from him. She ran past the house gates, and Apparated to the restaurant. She did her best to appear happy and in good humor for Ron, who seemed oddly nervous. Throughout the meal, he kept taking her hand in his to tell her how much she meant to him and how sorry he was for their rows all week.

Hermione's worst fear materialized, as he reached one hand into the pocket of his jacket. He wasn't about to propose, was he?

A dry lump formed in her throat. She didn't know what to say to that. They weren't ready … she wasn't ready … she didn't want to be married … not to him. How does one turn down a proposal gently?

"Miss Granger, what a surprise to see you here tonight," the familiar voice drawled at her side.

She slowly exhaled in relief. Hermione needed time to stall, to think what to say. She didn't even care to dwell on Malfoy's reasons for showing up tonight; she knew it wasn't a coincidence, but she didn't care.

"May I join you for dessert?" Lucius asked.

"Sure," Hermione blurted out. Ron shot her a glare.

"Um… no. I'm trying to have a private moment with my girlfriend," Ron said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, really? I do apologize for my interruption, then. If I had sensed something, I wouldn't have intruded on you. I'll leave you two to … your moment," he said, before moving off to be seated at the next table, right in her line of vision.

Ron cleared his throat. "What I was trying to say before I was interrupted is … I love you, Hermione." He reached into his pocket again, and held out a velvet box. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

He opened the box. The ring inside nearly blinded her. It was a square-cut diamond; the gaudiest she had ever seen. Why would he think she'd be impressed with jewelry that does nothing but advertise how much money was spent?

Lucius caught her eye. He looked pallid, but otherwise unreadable.

She closed the box and pushed it back into his hands. "It's something couples talk about in advance," she said. "This isn't a romance novel; it's our lives. People have to have multiple discussions on this subject before even thinking of looking at rings."

"But we have talked about it!"

"Very hypothetically. And we've agreed to get married only when we were ready to start a family," she said, squeezing his hand.

He brushed it off. "Well, aren't we? We've been together long enough. It's not like we're rushing into anything."

"But it doesn't mean we're in a good place to start a family," Hermione pointed out. "I'm not ready and neither are you."

"But I am ready!" he insisted, running a hand through his hair.

She looked at Lucius again, who continued to watch the scene before him. She tried to explain it to Ron, as convincingly as she could, "You think you are, but you're not. Neither of us is around enough to adopt a pet, much less have a child. Who's going to stay home with the baby? You'll have to switch to nightshifts for the near future, because I can't be at home during the day. And I'll still have to take time off to give birth and recover. I'm not ready for all that. You're just thinking of all the fun things you can do with the child like when you see Harry with Teddy. However, that's only one small aspect of being a parent. You have to take other scenarios into account and think whether or not you can handle the bad with the good. I'm not ready for that right now."

"We could still get married. We don't have to have kids right away." The hopeful look on his face made her feel even worse.

She looked down at the tablecloth, hating herself. She didn't want to hurt him, but agreeing to marry him right now would be a huge mistake.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "but I can't marry you."


	9. Chapter 8

"Ron, we've been rowing all week since the Blackstone Ball, and now you throw a proposal on my lap," Hermione said unable to hide the irritation in her voice. "Do you really think it's a good time to discuss marriage when there's been so much disconnect between us lately."

"What disconnect?" he asked in confusion.

"Just us not getting along lately," she tried to explain. "And if you're ready to get married and I'm not, it shows that we have different needs—"

"Which means what?" he demanded, looking hurt and angry.

"That we're growing apart. I do love you, but maybe we've just become a safe habit for each other," Hermione reasoned out. This was a lot easier than she had expected.

Ron sucked in his breath. "So you want to just … end things? Hermione, did you forget that we live together? We own our flat!"

"I know. But Ron, this isn't about real estate. I'm sure we can make it work. I can move out, and you can pay me my half whenever you can and keep the place. I would never expect you to give up your home," she plowed on. "Like I said, it's not right to stay together if you want marriage and I don't. I'm just not ready and I don't know if or when I can be. Maybe we've hit the natural plateau in our relationship, and this is as good as it's going to get … it's just it's not enough."

He looked gobsmacked. "I don't see where this is coming from. Everything was fine … until you started working with Malfoy." He jerked his thumb behind him in Lucius's direction.

Her heart started to race, and she tried not to fidget or look too obvious. "I don't know how that's relevant." Hermione was hoping her face wasn't burning with shame.

"I do! You're never home anymore! We haven't had sex in forever! You constantly criticize every little thing I do! What, is it a coincidence that it all started when you took that stupid job?"

Hermione was incredulous. "That stupid job? It's the most meaningful thing I've done since accepting my promotion. I used to have challenging cases — cases that made me feel like I was making a positive contribution to society. Until Mr. Malfoy's case, I was ready to pack it up and move back to my previous Department. As for the rest of it, just remember that relationships take two. If things are so lousy between us, then it's the sum of the choices we've made together."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

She rubbed her forehead in frustration.

Lucius suddenly loomed over their table once more. "Are you all right, Miss Granger?"

"Malfoy, this is a private conversation," Ron snarled.

"I was talking to the lady, Mr. Weasley," Lucius said, trying to catch Hermione's eye, but she resolutely refused to look at him.

"I'm fine."

"Mr. Weasley, I hope you're not upsetting her. Miss Granger has been invaluable to my case and to my grandson. It shows what a fine person she is. I hope you realize that."

She took a calming breath. "Mr. Malfoy, please. I'm fine. Truly."

Ron gave Lucius a cold glare. "This is between me and my girlfriend, so bugger off."

"Ron!" Hermione admonished him. "I know you're upset with me, but don't take your anger out on others."

He turned red. "Yeah, well … he needs to mind his own business."

"It is my business when my most valuable employee is being harangued in public. I will not tolerate anything that could compromise her work performance," Lucius smoothly said. "Moreover, Weasley, I know you're not aware but your altercation is garnering attention. I don't need my solicitor to be in a middle of a fracas."

Ron stood up. "I'm going home," he said, looking at Hermione. "Can you give me thirty minutes to give everyone heads up about change of plans?"

"What change of plans?" Hermione asked.

"Everyone is waiting for us at the Burrow for engagement and birthday party. Let me just tell them it'll be only birthday party," he grumbled.

"Ron… I told you I didn't want a party," she quietly said, still not looking at Lucius.

"Great. No party then. Don't go! Forget the whole thing!" He threw his napkin onto the table and stormed off.

"Ron, don't be like …" Hermione didn't finish and put her head in her hands.

Lucius took Ron's seat and scooted closer to her. "Hermione …"

"I'd really like to be alone," she said. "And you should really stop making a habit of showing up where I am. It's intrusive."

"Too late, lovely lady. I'm afraid this habit is already a full-blown addiction," he said with a lingering, intimate note in his voice. "Besides, I wouldn't have the slightest idea of where to find you if you didn't constantly give out that information."

She raised her head at him. "I mean it."

"I love the way you tilt your chin in defiance like this," he complimented her. He took her drink and took a long sip. She dropped her eyes to his beautiful fingers, watching how seductively they curled around the stem.

"Why are you doing this?" she weakly inquired. "Why are you making this so hard? We keep constantly crossing platonic line in our friendship. And it's partially my fault, as well. But we've got to stop! I don't want an infidelity on my consciousness."

"And you think it's so easy for me?"

"I don't know. I don't know what you want from me! I'm just so confused … And I feel so bad! I've never felt so low in my life! I'm a cheater. I've cheated emotionally and physically. Even if Ron and I broke up for good, we still can't be together."

"It doesn't have to be this way." His voice very low.

"You're not listening to me. I don't want to be complicit in any cheap thrills," she declared.

Tension hung in the air around them. "Is that what you think I want?" he demanded harshly.

"Why else are you pursuing me when I've repeated over and over that I'm not interested in anything with you as long as you're married? I've crossed the line. I've cheated and hurt someone I care deeply about, but I don't want to do it to another person, even if she doesn't know it. Even if she doesn't care about what or who you do! It's not who I am. Scratching an itch is not worth the guilt I'd feel afterwards."

Silence followed. He groaned as if in pain. "What if it's not an itch? You said you don't know what I want from you. Well, what I want is you. I've come to … You're a marvelous woman, and I'm not extending an invitation to my bed. I'm not offering, what did you call it? A cheap thrill. I want something much more than a quick roll between the sheets. I want you properly. If my wife was well, do you think I wouldn't have taken proper steps to do this right? Do you think I would only want you as my mistress?" His voice was almost unrecognizable without the self-assured tone.

"I don't know," she repeated. "I guess we'll never know."

"Then spend some time with me," he offered, taking her hand in his.

"I _am_ spending time with you. We're working on your case together, remember?" She gave him a small smile.

"I meant spend time with me outside of all that. See for yourself if your feelings are genuine or just a symptom of being in a bad relationship."

"My relationship with Ron wasn't bad," she whispered. "It was stale, stagnant … maybe unfulfilling at times, but it wasn't bad. We've both had bad experiences with dating other people when we broke up once. People were so dazzled with Harry's celebrity that Ron and I got taken advantage of. We got back together because we knew we could trust each other. We knew we were together for the right reasons. It wasn't bad."

"Fine. It wasn't. Every relationship has its good and bad points," he conceded. "But you still haven't given me an answer."

"It's a terrible idea. Every time I'm around you … I can't think," she tried desperately to find any excuse to refuse him.

 _Only fools think they have a choice when it comes to love._

That's what he told her in the gazebo earlier. Cold sweat swept over her at the memory. She wished she did have a choice.

"That's still not an answer," he remarked.

"Okay, I will because I clearly have lost my senses here. But only on the condition that all our extracurricular interactions should be in public and no kissing ever."

He gave her a satisfied smile. "Agreed."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'm tired." She stood up.

He followed the suit. "Shall I escort you home?"

"No. Thank you for … everything today. I …" Hermione didn't know what else to say. The entire night was disastrous, yet she felt an odd sense of relief. "Have a good night."

Lucius caught her arm and bent over it, sensually kissing the center of her palm. "Good night, Hermione," he murmured into her skin.

A shiver stabbed through her body. He was saying good night, but it sounded an awful lot like a hello.

* * *

 _I knew it was a bad idea_ , Hermione silently ranted as she shifted in the saddle, caught between the pommel and Lucius's pelvis.

When she had mentioned her love for horses and desire to ride, she didn't think he'd actually remember. Yet here she was: perched on a horse with a married man for whom she left her long-time boyfriend. She should be preparing for court tomorrow. She should be doing a lot of other things, like finding a new place to live and packing six year's worth of memories. But no. She was spending a crisp autumn afternoon with Lucius Malfoy, doing absolutely nothing. When he took her to Wiltshire Riding Club, Hermione thought she'd actually get her own horse for this ordeal. Seeing as she was an inexperienced rider, she got roped into another terrible decision making – sharing a horse with him. Now the rhythm of the canter sent her backside to rub firmly against the hard bulge in Lucius's trousers, while the forward motion stimulated her clitoris. She bit her lip trying to stem the pleasure away, but her climax crept closer and closer. Still, Hermione was trying to hold back. She couldn't allow herself to cross that line. However else she may flirt with Lucius and share inappropriate kisses with him, orgasming in front of him would be a step too far. The seam of her jeans roughly rubbed against her slit and, involuntarily, Hermione rocked her hips in time as the horse rhythmically trotted. The gusset of her knickers was soaked by now, and still she fought it. She couldn't come in front of him. Even though it was obviously his plan all along. That's why he was so accommodating when she stated her conditions last night.

 _No, no, no._

But the grinding rhythm and the pressure of the saddle continued to drive her. Hermione was losing control; losing the war with her body. She couldn't hold back much longer. Yet she had to try. White spots blighted her vision. She could hardly see, but she wouldn't ruin her concentration.

 _Not in public! Not with him here!_

"Are you unwell?" Lucius asked, his mouth a hair's breath away from her ear, his pelvis pressing against her bum.

Her voice cracked as she struggled to string words together, "I don't know … feel lightheaded."

"Do you wish to stop?"

 _Yes, yes, yes! Stop! That's the word, Mr. Malfoy!_

She tried to say it, but couldn't. She had given in to her primal desires and had no wish to stop anything he was doing. Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him as the powerful sensation filled her. Grinding harder into the saddle, she came. Her body noticeably shook against his. It was all she could do to remain upright and stifle her moans.

Lucius fully understood what was going on. The Pure-blood bastard understood too easily and put one arm around her waist to steady her convulsions, while using the reins in the other hand to slow down the steed. The horse, oblivious to her spasms, walked slower, but the motion was still enough to continue to stimulate her.

Hermione tried hard to keep quiet as the orgasmic aftershocks quaked through her, but some gasps escaped. Her eyes glazed over and her head ached from looking back at him. He, however, calmly looked on her. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew what was happening. He wanted it to happen … made it happen. His plan worked perfectly.

Then to her shock, something unusual happened to Hermione. In the midst of her second orgasm, she felt a sudden rush of liquid expelled from her pussy. She wasn't just wet; she was soaked! When she glanced down she could see the noticeable dark spot on her crotch. It was so embarrassing. She feared she had lost control of her bladder.

"Lucius, I think … something happened … I need to use the lavatory," she admitted, feeling her face enflame. She couldn't even articulate her problem politely.

The look on his face indicated that he had a very good idea of what happened, and it had nothing to do with her initial assumption.

"Oh, no," he simply said. "It's all very normal."

 _Tricky bastard!_


	10. Chapter 9

**I found my notebook with this story, so finally I can update once more! So happy I don't have to start over from scratch. And don't worry, I'll never abandon anything. Thank you all for reading and commenting!**

 **So after her _exhilarating_ horseback adventure in the last chapter, Hermione's about to go on her first official date with Lucius ... and things will be getting heated!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Lana**

* * *

Hermione spent the day waxing, plucking, exfoliating, and conditioning. She couldn't remember last time she was so nervous about a date. Or so guilty. She couldn't believe she agreed to a date with a married man.

 _Dinner, not a date,_ she corrected herself as she picked up a liquid liner. She knew she was deluding herself, but it was easier to think of it in neutral terms rather than her being complicit in another man's adultery. Her hand shook as she poised the fine tip over her lash line. Hermione lowered her hand and took a deep breath. She was overthinking it, as usual. Nothing - much less adultery - need happen tonight. It was only one night, and it was highly likely that it might end up in a stale mess. Perhaps Lucius's interest in her had more to do with the actual chase of the game. While she was taken, Hermione might have presented an attractive thrill to him. To pursue her until she left Ron might be exactly what the Malfoy blood needed when Lucius was in such a low point in his life. Now that she was unattached and available, Lucius might not be as eager to start anything. Every time they've spoken on this topic, he was keen to point out that it was more than a game, more than lust, but what else would a man say when he's trying to get what he wants?

Yet part of Hermione hoped for something to happen tonight. Maybe not orgasmic heights of this afternoon's horseback ride, but ... something. She had this attraction to Lucius ever since she first started working for him. Now that their case was all but finished, they could spend time together in more social capacity. Even if nothing happened past tonight, he was still an interesting wizard to know.

Carefully, she finished applying her eye make up and moved on to the matter of clothing. As she was critiquing her wardrobe, struggling to decide on a dress, Ginny popped her head in. Harry was nice enough to let her stay at Grimmauld Place with them while she and Ron decided what to do with their flat; the best option was to put it on the market and split the money from the sale.

"Is that a little too posh for a night at the Icehouse?" Ginny asked, referring to their favorite pub in Diagon Alley.

Hermione hesitated. She completely forgot she agreed to go there with Harry and Ginny tonight. After the failed engagement, the duo was convinced that she needed distractions to console her.

"I don't think I'll be going with you. I sort of have other plans." She fervently hoped she wouldn't press her, as her mind struggled to come up with a convincing story that would require her dressed up to the nines.

"With whom?" she asked, her brown eyes scanning her face, then the attire she draped over her trunk. "Wait, is this a date?"

She hated lying to her. She was one of her closest friends; she'd find out the truth sooner or later.

"Well, in a way ... yes," Hermione admitted.

Ginny looked perplexed. "What do you mean 'in a way'? And you just ended things with Ron. Don't you think it's too soon to start seeing other people? You've only just moved out."

Turning her anguished eyes to hers, Hermione told Ginny everything that went on between her and Lucius for the past few weeks. By the time she finished, the redhead stared at her in disbelief.

"How? Why?" she repeated. "What compelled this? He's a Death Eater! And way, way, way too old for you! Oh, and married! The trifecta of wrong wizard."

Hermione's mind whirred. "Well, logic is not what determines feelings or chemistry. I know it's odd and unexpected, but ... it just happened."

The skepticism in Ginny's eyes was unmistakable. "I know you wouldn't throw over Ron for just anybody, so Malfoy has to mean something to you. Here you are - all single and free, while he's still married. Does that sound right to you?"

"No. But he can't divorce his wife while she's in a coma, Ginny! Would you want to be with someone who would do that just so things look even on paper?" Hermione replied, her voice sounding louder than she intended.

"I see your point, but still. When you're working with someone these attractions tend to happen, but they don't last. I know it was a mistake to act on it all those times, but don't let your guilt over it drive you to make decisions you'll regret. Don't turn down a marriage to Ron because you've had this one hiccup." She narrowed her eyes at her. "It's like in this book I was reading, _Toxic Love_. It says that being attracted to men who aren't available could be a sign of fear of commitment. If things with Ron got boring, and you're having cold feet about the relationship, an attraction to the wrong wizard could be your way of alerting you about your misgivings. Obviously, you're not seeking a relationship with Malfoy, so it could be a symptom of how you feel about committing deeper to Ron. It's not so much about wanting to be with that wizard, it's about your general emotional state."

Hermione winced. She really had low opinion of popular self-help literature, but wasn't about to get into in-depth analysis about it with Ginny.

"I think my emotional state was just fine, and I've had misgivings about committing more to Ron long before now. I just never felt compelled to end things. If it makes you feel better, I'm not starting a torrid affair here. We're just going to dinner and see how things go," she reasoned. "It could be a disaster, and end all the attraction. For all we know, he liked the competition aspect of this whole thing. Without a rival to compete against, Lucius's interest may not last."

Ginny sighed and shook her head. "Hermione, you don't usually miss the point, but when you do, you miss it by a mile."

"No, I get it. He's married. It's a bad idea. It's one night. I need to know if these feelings between us are real or a symptom of other problems in our lives," Hermione said irritably.

Her friend shrugged. "It's your choice and your life, but I don't think it's a good idea. If all goes well, then what? I don't understand why you'd want to give up a good life with Ron for something that has no future. You're not going to go anywhere in Diagon Alley on this date, are you? Ron's really devastated, Hermione. It'll kill him if he finds out that you left him for Malfoy, especially if he hears about it from somebody else."

"Of course, we're not going anywhere we may run into anyone we know. Gosh, Ginny, how cruel do you think I am? We're going to Rosewood Place in Turtle Creek." Hermione explained.

"Well, that's good, I guess." Ginny turned red at the next thought in her head. "So, are you... going to go back to his place?"

"I'm not planning on it. Even if I do, I'm not going to sleep with him, if that's what you mean," Hermione told her.

Ginny turned even redder at her next words, "In the heat of the moment, people can change their minds. I hope you've protection. Malfoy's been in a whole other league than either you or Ron, so you have to be really careful."

Hermione would have laughed if she wasn't so nervous about the evening. They've only snogged, so would he expect something more sexual this time?

She wouldn't think about it now; she was nervous enough.

"Thanks for your concern, but I'll be fine. Really," Hermione said.

They chatted for a few minutes before Ginny left. An hour later Hermione stood in the lobby of Rosewood, the upscale restaurant and hotel. The establishment was crowded with Saturday dinner-goers. Lucius had yet to arrive, so Hermione opted to wait for him in the patio area. Her nerves were close to being fried. She couldn't remember last time she had such conflicting feelings about a date.

 _Dinner, not date._

Then she spotted him walking through the glass doors to her, a look of admiration evident in his eyes.

 _Definitely a date,_ Hermione conceded.

After she greeted him, they moved inside to the bar area. After they ordered their drinks, silence ensued, and Hermione began to feel a bit desperate.

"This is a very-"

"What do you think..."

They spoke at the same time. Lucius smiled and motioned for her to speak first. Hermione nodded, thinking they could make polite conversation with current events, or books, or entertainment. However, what interested her most was Lucius Malfoy himself.

"I just realized how little I know about you," she said.

He took a sip of his deep red wine. "What would you like to know?"

"Something personal that very few people know. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing."

He took his time sipping on his drink. "I never had to work this hard to convince a witch to spend time with me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Wrong turn. Try again."

He chuckled. "All right. Something personal... I was captain of Hogwarts polo team."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "They had a polo team in your day?"

"Don't make me sound so ancient. I am merely trying to impress you with my athletic prowess."

Hermione laughed, feeling slightly emboldened by her half-finished glass of rose champagne. "As though I'd need to be impressed," she joked.

"What made you choose magical law enforcement?" he asked. "Forgive me, but I never took you for a Solicitor General type."

She wagged her finger at him. "We were talking about you, remember?"

He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. "I'd rather talk about you. At least, for now."

"Okay. To answer your question," she started. "I wanted to do something to make a positive difference that would have a lasting impact on society. I started in Magical Creatures Department and was recently promoted to Magical Law Enforcement as Solicitor General. I thought that would give me a greater platform, but it's actually very restrictive. I'm thinking of transferring back to my old Department if things don't improve within a year or so."

Lucius traced his finger on the side of the wine glass. "Most of these positions tend to be filled by people who are eager for promotion. You seem to like being there for its own sake. It's refreshing to see that kind of … passion. Most young people are terribly impatient about career advancement."

"I guess I'd like to think I'm not like that. I've wanted a career where I could do most good, and my previous position fit my talents very well. I think it's better to recognize your strengths and use them, even if it is in a less powerful or prestigious position."

Lucius shook his head. "Like I said, your attitude is refreshing, Miss Granger. As are you."

Hermione tilted her face up. "You flatter me too much, Mr. Malfoy."

"Actually, I tell the truth most of the time," he said with a smirk. "It's just that most people never believe the sincerity of it."

She looked at him. "Who cares what they think?"

Lucius sighed. "You're right," he said quietly.

When they decided to continue over dinner, the conversation turned lighter, but didn't lack for stimulation. They argued, joked, teased, and laughed. Hermione couldn't remember last time she had such a perfect evening. To think she was so sick with nerves just hours before!

Time flew so quickly that they didn't notice how late it was getting.

Lucius looked at his watch. "It's almost midnight."

Hermione groaned. "Way past my bedtime. Thank you for the lovely dinner. I had a very pleasant evening."

"As did I."

He reached for her and brushed his lips along her cheek. His mouth was moist and firm against her skin. Instinctively, Hermione wound her arms around his neck and held him tightly to her. His hands found their way to the small of her back, pressing their bodies close. Reason and sanity were quickly retreating.

"Let's turn this pleasant evening into a pleasurable one." His voice was thick with desire.

Hermione knew she was sorely tempted, but forced herself to drop her arms and step out of his embrace. His arms enveloped her about the waist and Apparated them to the Manor, right outside the familiar doors of his bedroom. Those lips of his nibbled at her neck and earlobe, imparting a heavy dose of persuasion in their wake.

She danced out of his embrace once more. "Lucius, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted."

His eyes clouded. "I'm sensing an incoming 'but'."

"I don't think I'm ready for that. It's a big step for me," she confessed.

"You could still stay over. As you remember my bed is definitely large enough for two," he offered with a lascivious smirk.

She wasn't ready to go home yet, but wasn't sure sharing the bed for the entire night was a good plan. "I'm not sure I should trust you."

"I promise to behave. I'm not some randy youth. You said not tonight, and nothing need happen."

Out of arguments, Hermione followed him in. While he was in the lavatory, she carefully removed dress, folding it before laying it neatly on top of her shoes on the floor. Her feminine things looked strangely out of place in his masculine space. Keeping her underthings on, she got under the covers and waited for him.

He shortly returned, wearing only sleeping trousers that drew all the attention to his well-toned torso. With a flick of his wand the lights were off, but Hermione felt suddenly more alert. She scooted to his side and whispered her good nights.

When she woke up, Hermione could hear the light drizzle outside the window. With a soft moan, she rolled towards Lucius again, cuddling against his arm. He slightly opened his eyes and smiled.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've awakened beside another person?" he asked, his voice raspy with sleep.

"I hope I lived up to you expectations," Hermione joked.

"Aside from snoring and kicking, you were tolerable enough," he teased.

She playfully smacked his arm. "I do not snore!"

He rolled on top of her. "I'm glad you stayed."

She touched his face. "Me too. I feel very comfortable in your home."

Sitting up, Hermione leaned close to him and softly kissed him. She meant it to be a simple short kiss, but he deepened it and they both came away breathless. Hermione leaned in for another, then then another, unable to get enough. One of Lucius's hands landed on her knee, moving up her thigh.

"You're amazing," Hermione murmured as their lips parted reluctantly again.

"Why is that?" he asked in amusement, but Hermione didn't answer. She was too distracted by the hardness she felt against her side.

Her hand shyly touched his abdomen and explored the muscles there before sliding her hand to the waistband. She looked up at Lucius, who silently watched her, seemingly holding his breath. He gave a slight nod at her silent question, and Hermione touched his shaft through the soft cloth, running her fingers over his length. His cock jerked under her touches. With another look at him, she pushed his trousers down off his hips.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight. He was only the second man she'd seen this way in her life, but he was by far as flawless as one could possibly be in that regard: straight, light pink tinged with purpling veins, and a plump reddish tip. With gentleness, she continued to lightly stroke him.

"You're teasing me on purpose," he groaned out, even as his member swelled and jerked again.

Experimentally, Hermione whispered a lubricating spell, then wrapped her fingers around his cock and slowly slid them up and down his length. His color turned darker at her ministrations. It was fascinating how he was reacting to her. His breathing grew more shallow and his groans became more frequent when she tightened her hold on him. When she looked up to his face, she saw that his eyes were closed and beads of sweat gleamed at his temples. She was glad and relieved to see him enjoying being pleasured by her. Hermione was eager to see more. She wanted to make him feel as good as his kisses made her.

She brushed her thumb over the crown of his cock and was instantly rewarded with a thrust of his hips while he mumbled something incoherently under his breath. Curious, she got to her knees and bent over him, running her tongue over the flushed tip, tasting the salty fluid that began to gather there.

"Gods, Hermione!" he called out.

She lightly sucked on his head, bathing it in the wet heat of her mouth.

His hand flew to her hair, grasping the strands tightly in his fist. "I won't last if you keep this up."

Hermione didn't pause, her hand moved on the rest of his cock as her mouth suckled at the velvety flesh.

"It's now," he growled, as his muscles stiffened.

She raised her head off him and quickened the movements of her hands. Almost immediately his creamy seed streamed out of him in sharp bursts, landing on his lower abdomen and dribbling down to her still stroking hand.

He opened his eyes. "I'm sorry about that," he said, aiming a cleaning spell at himself and her hand.

Perplexed, Hermione asked, "Sorry about what?"

"I don't usually take my pleasure before a witch does." He looked wildly into her eyes before rolling over on top of her.

Hermione squealed in delight. He lowered the cups of her bra and looked over her breasts, causing her to furiously blush. Lucius was gentle in his caresses, watching as her nipples hardened from his expert touches. He took them between his fingers, teasing them with light pinches. Hermione was sure she could come from this alone.

He growled as he lowered his head to her chest and licked across one of her nipples. She gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, stroking his tangled tresses. She watched as he stroked his tongue over her, mesmerized by the display. Her arousal was beginning to feel uncomfortable; she knew he could feel her wetness on his skin. He played with her breasts until they were red, and Hermione was breathless with need. Forgetting her earlier reservations, she wanted nothing more than to give in to this desire. All the weeks of frustration were too much.

His hand moved down to trace the plump lips of her womanhood.

A smug smile graced his mouth. "You're very wet."

"Your fault," she croaked out.

Teasing her with exquisite slowness, Lucius ran one finger over her slit, before circling her opening and sliding the digit inside. Hermione cried out and lifted her hips up to his touch, needing more. He slid another finger to join the first and began measured strokes.

"Your pussy is so tight and hot. I can't wait to be inside you," he whispered. His words causing her to blush as never before.

His thumb pressed on her clit, as he quickened the rhythm of his strokes. Hermione had never done that when she touched herself. It was too much. Her back arched as the pressure built inside her. Her thighs shook as she felt her body give in to a powerful orgasm. She gasped and whimpered as aftershocks buzzed through her, watching as he withdrew his wet fingers from her. She saw his revived erection.

"I want you. I want this," she said softly, opening her thighs wider.

He made no move to take her up on her blatant invitation. "Last night you said it was a big step for you."

"It is, and I want to take it with you. Right now. I think we've waited long enough, don't you agree?"

He captured her lips in a dizzying kiss, positioning his cock at her entrance.

Before he could make another move, Hermione saw the door open and the sound of little feet running on the floor.

"I'm scared!" Scorpius cried out.

"Damn it!" Lucius muttered in frustration, shoving his trousers back up his legs.

Hermione quickly transfigured her dress into a dressing gown and discreetly slipped it on.

"Scorpius! How many times do I have to tell you to knock before entering a room?" Lucius scolded his grandson.

The little boy looked back with wounded, wide-eyes.

Hermione got up and walked up to him, sinking on her knees to be eye to eye with him.

"What scared you?" she gently asked him, smoothing out the hair on his head.

"I had a bad dream," he said, looking as if he was about to cry.

Hermione lifted him up onto the bed. "Do you want to tell us about it?"

"The Dmentors were chasing me."

"Dementors," Lucius corrected him without the usual brashness in his voice.

"You know how to defeat them, don't you?" Hermione asked. Scorpius crawled between the disheveled couple and lay down across both of their bodies.

The little boy nodded. "Patronus charm. But I don't have a wand yet."

"Until you get it, you just have to think of the happiest memory you have. Concentrate on it, and Dementors will stop chasing you," she told him.

"Can I sleep here?" Scorpius asked, yawning.

Hermione looked at disgruntled Lucius. He looked annoyed, but nodded.

"Of course." She patted the pillows between them, and the child clumsily scooted over onto them.

Scorpius gave her a sheepish smile. "Does this mean you'll be living with Grandfather and me all the time now?"

She nervously laughed. "No. Your grandfather was kind enough to let me spend the night here, but I have my own home."

"I wish you could live with us all the time," he said, yawning again.

Lucius gave Hermione a conspiratorial wink. "We'll just have to work really hard to persuade her to stay, then."

She blushed, settling back onto her pillows. Scorpius was already softly snoring away between them. Hermione looked up at Lucius and smiled at him.

"Raincheck?" she whispered.

"Most definitely," he said. "You're not leaving until I get to throughly ravage you."

She laughed and rolled onto her side, trying to fall back asleep. She liked this feeling of domesticity with Malfoy wizards. They all experienced loneliness and sadness in their lives, and yet Hermione felt that when they were all together, all three of them were much happier. She sat up to look at their sleeping forms. As she gazed at them, never had Hermione felt more content with life.


	11. Chapter 10

**Thank you all for your patience and encouragement. Hope you'll enjoy this update :)**

 **Lana**

* * *

"A shooting star! Make a wish!" Hermione said, as her and Lucius went on a private evening walk after spending a day with Scorpius.

Her hair blew in the strong wind, and the autumn chill pressed against her face. She hardly cared though; she was having the best day with Lucius.

"It makes one feel so insignificant," he said, looking up at the sky, in the direction she pointed. "Our lives are so small compared to the rest of the universe."

"That's why we have to not take anything for granted - everything is so finite for us," Hermione said in agreement.

"When I was a Fifth Year at Hogwarts I was hopelessly infatuated with this one witch. She was two years older, and I was completely besotted. I thought that's how one should feel about their future wife."

"And did you?"

Lucius shook his head. "No. My father made it clear that marriage was a dynastic union between bloodlines and property; it had nothing to do with love."

"What happened to your first love?" Hermione asked out of curiosity.

He shrugged. "I can't say for certain. She moved away and probably married. The point is, I never felt that way in my marriage. I thought it was because I was older and more mature with a more realistic view of romance and passion. I followed my father's lead and resigned myself to the fact that I'd never feel this way again until."

"Until?" Hermione prompted.

"Until you."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Hermione thought she'd burst into tears of happiness. Lucius wasn't playing games; his feelings were as real and out of control as her own.

At this moment a bolt of thunder crashed through the sky, followed by a streak of lightening. It became dark as the rain began pouring in buckets. Hermione didn't care. She grabbed Lucius and kissed him more passionately than she ever kissed anyone before.

He Apparated them to his bedroom again.

Hermione finally noticed her rain-soaked clothes. "I feel like I need a hot shower," she said, attempting to bring levity into a situation that was rapidly becoming heavy with sexual tension.

Lucius leaned in and licked his lips. "I want more. I want to see the look on your face when I fuck you."

Hermione's body enflamed at his words. She couldn't even begin to think of how to respond.

"Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop."

She knew what crossing this line would mean. She was about to sleep with a married man ... after she left her long-time boyfriend for him, did that make her the worst kind of person? Facing the decision now, she knew she wanted him.

"Tell me and I'll stop," Lucius repeated himself with more authority.

"Don't stop," she spoke in a tone that begged him to fuck her brains out and kissed him. He returned her kiss with equal longing, massaging her with her tongue. He was an amazing kisser.

"What do you want, Hermione?" he asked against her mouth.

"This," she replied, pulling him back into another kiss.

His hands moved to knead her bum. "You have a great arse."

Hermione smiled. She couldn't believe she was hearing dirty talk from Lucius Malfoy. It was so wrong, but his hands were making her feel too good.

He tore his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck, lightly biting.

"Lucius!" Hermione gasped. His fingers dug into her hips.

"What else do you want?" he asked without removing his mouth from her skin.

Hermione couldn't answer, as she caressed the back of his neck. Did he really want her to say these things out loud? But this was no time for bashfulness and meekness.

"Your head between my thighs," she voiced her desires.

Lucius smirked and kissed her again. "Say it again," he demanded, his eyes lighting up.

She could only comply. "I want your mouth on me, Lucius."

With nonverbal spell, he divested them of their clothes and lay her down on the bed. He slid down her body, spreading her legs. He went at her with equal measure of eagerness and finesse. Hermione never had anyone handle her this way.

"Unnnnnn!" she moaned when his tongue finally touched her.

It has been too long since Hermione experienced something like this. In this moment, she knew that she couldn't live without the talented muscle in his mouth. And he somehow knew just what she liked. Without reservations, Lucius ravished her pink flesh; her entire body tightened with intensity. The tip of his tongue teased her opening before sliding inside her as far as possible, fucking her with his tongue. Her hand shot down to his head to grab a fistful of his hair. His tongue exited her and proceeded to playfully flick at her clit.

Through her moans and writhing, she looked down at him. His eyes met hers as he started to suck on her. Hermione screamed with pleasure, not recognizing her own voice.

This was madness!

She released his hair, pushing her pelvis further into his mouth. He knew she didn't want him to stop, so naturally - in the very Malfoy fashion - he did. A pitiful whine left the back of her throat, and Hermione silently searched his face for an explanation.

A devilish smirk played on his lips.

"Please..." Hermione said in breathless disapproval as her hips twitched up. He lightly licked her folds, still smirking in his infuriating fashion. She tugged on his hair, willing him to increase his ministrations. Picking up on her not-so-subtle hints, Lucius begins sucking on her clit again.

Hermione knew her orgasm was coming fast. How could he do this to her so effortlessly?

"I'm almost there!" Her hips squirmed against his face. Lucius merely hummed in response and sucked harder. Again, Hermione looked in his eyes when she could hold back no longer.

"Fuck!" she cried out, and he released her clit, sliding his tongue into her pussy to taste her wet contractions. Hermione didn't let go of his hair, still riding his face.

Only when the last orgasmic wave left her did Lucius kiss his way back up her body, nuzzling at her neck.

"Would you still like to shower?" he asked in a low voice, his tone cautious and patient.

Hermione pulled her head up. "Yes, if you don't mind."

His eyes were burning as they studied her.

"Only if I can join you."

Shower together? She didn't even share such level of intimacy with Ron, and they lived together! But why not?

Hermione nodded, at a loss for words. For emotions. For pretty much everything. The only thing she could concentrate on was following him into an ensuite bathroom. Her orgasm left her so drained, Hermione didn't know how she would be able to stay conscious long enough to wash up. She stood under spray, rolling her neck under the warm water. She heard Lucius enter. Seconds later his arms wrapped around her. His large frame pressed against her naked back, making her practically melt.

Hermione leaned her head back on his chest, savoring his touches along her shoulders, back, and hips.

"Your arse is incredible," he whispered in her ear. His hands rolled over her soft, wet skin in appreciation. Hermione never had gotten any compliments when it came to that part of her body. Or any part that wasn't her brain. Her features were rather ordinary to her, neither particularly enticing, nor particularly homely. Ron hardly commented on her physique, except when giving her a few occasional compliments when she dressed up for a formal event. Not that Hermione minded; catering to the male gaze wasn't high on her list of priorities. Yet to hear sincere compliments from Lucius made her feel desirable and, for the first time in her life, truly sexy.

His hands were getting bolder, softly massaging her breasts and gliding down to her inner thighs. She gasped when they grazed her still-sensitive sex. Lucius turned her until she was facing the shower wall. He hungrily nipped at her neck, as his hand continued petting between her legs. Hermione could feel his hard length against her backside and pushed back against it, eager to feel more. He angled himself, rubbing his cock against her labia.

His mouth was at her ear. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes." Never was Hermione more ready to do something so wrong in her life.

The head of his cock pushed in, and she gasped as her flesh stretched to accommodate him. He thrust few more times. Each time he pushed back in, Hermione's body was engulfed in electricity.

"Uhh... Lucius..."

"What is it, darling?" he queried, without disrupting his rhythm.

Her heart leapt at the endearment. "You feel so big." She didn't actually know how much of him was in her.

Lucius only groaned back in response, his pelvis slightly jerking. Hermione's muscles around him adjusted somewhat; he felt better as he picked up the speed and pushed further. She was completely consumed by the way his rock hard cock was stretching her, touching every sensitive spot inside. When he thrust even deeper, Hermione yelped in pain, her body tensed. She was she he'd bruised her cervix. Lucius stopped his movements, keeping himself buried in her.

His arm snaked around her waist. "You're so tight," he panted.

She whimpered, feeling so incredibly full. Beyond the slight pain, however, Hermione felt better than ever. She pushed her hips back into him. They both moaned at the sensation. Lucius began plunging into her with renewed vigor. Her excitement threatened to burst out each time he bumped against the farthest wall. It all felt so overwhelmingly forbidden and exhilarating at the same time.

"Please, don't stop," she begged him, meeting his movements. To her great disappointment, he did. She whined as he slid out of her.

Lucius turned her around and kissed her, his hands cupping her face. Hermione was surprised by his intensity, but returned the kiss with just as much passion. Her hands slipped to his lower back as his tongue flicked against her own. Without releasing her mouth, his hands slid to her bottom and lifted her up as though she weighed nothing. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and kept on kissing him. One hand left her, and a moment later, he guided himself back into her. She hummed in delight as her body was lowered onto his cock, gasping when he was fully in.

"Does that hurt?" he asked her between breaths, as the water trickled down his face.

"No," she replied, shaking her head.

"Tell me the truth," Lucius demanded in a low voice.

Hermione sighed. "Only a little."

He looked at her with burning gray eyes and gently glided his cock within her, not letting himself drive too deeply into her. Hermione's eyes fluttered shut as he easily lifted and lowered her body in steady rhythm. Everything felt so overwhelmingly delicious. This was living. This was life. She tilted her head up toward the shower spray, enjoying the water splashing down at her.

"Is that better?" he inquired after a few minutes.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Yes."

He leaned forward to kiss her again.

"Tell me more. Tell me how you feel."

She smiled again. "You feel so good inside me. You're the only person who made me come with just your mouth," she confessed. Lucius picked up the speed at her words. Hermione's nails scratched at his neck as she bounced harder on his cock.

"And once when I was with Ron, I imagined you fucking me," she whispered. As she said those words, he growled and impaled his cock deeper inside her.

"Did you come?"

"Oh, yes. So hard," she cooed in response. The angle he's entering her now was so perfect; the warmth of oncoming orgasm was quickly building.

He kissed at her neck. "I love making you feel good. I wanted to do this since our first dinner at Wordsworth's. Do you remember?"

"Yes. OH! You're too good!" Hermione exclaimed. Lucius began to thrust even faster and gently bit at her shoulder. She could feel every inch of him pushing in and out of her. She didn't want him to ever stop.

"Are you going to come on my cock?" Lucius suddenly asked against her ear. She moaned when his words gave her building climax a boost.

"Only if you want me to," she replied, holding tight to his hair.

"Oh, I want you to," he said with strong conviction. "Come, Hermione. Come for me."

She couldn't control the scream that left her mouth, feeling her pussy tighten more around his cock. Then her orgasm exploded inside her, causing her hips to grind greedily against him, pulling him closer still.

"Lucius!" she cried out. Her ongoing orgasm had her on fire; she couldn't get enough of his relentless fucking. "Please, don't stop. Never stop."

He pulled her off the wall, wrapping both of his arms around her and pounded harder into her.

Hermione screamed his name again, as she came a second time. For a moment, he stopped ...then, he slammed into her a final time, moaning into her neck. His pelvis jolted as he continued to come, sniffling his grunts. Hermione felt him pulsating inside her as she was coming down from her own release. They panted against each other, still standing in the warm water of the shower.

"Holy shit, Lucius," she breathed against his hair, his head resting on her shoulder.

He let out a short laugh. "That's an understatement."

After a minute, he looked up at her. They gazed into each other's eyes. Hermione couldn't believe what just happened, but she wasn't thinking of guilt at this moment. She was thinking of Lucius, of how he just made love to her, and how he was holding her to him right now. She kissed him. When they needed to catch their breath again, Lucius unwound his arms from her and grabbed her waist. He gently slid his cock out of her, eliciting a moan from her, and set Hermione to her feet. She wobbled slightly, prompting him to keep his hands on her hips.

It was at that moment that she stole a glance down. Merlin's pink socks! That was inside her?

Lucius's cock was still nearly hard ... and large. He saw her staring and smirked.

They continued to playfully flirt as they washed up.

"I'm so tired," Hermione said when they stepped out. "I hope I can stay awake enough to Floo home."

Lucius wrapped a towel around himself and handed one to her. "So stay the night."

Hermione considered his offer, as she dried herself off. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," he said, giving her a pointed look. He walked up to her and lifted her up into his arms. His mouth was on hers again. Her hands went into his wet hair, as he carried her to bed.

"Good night, Lucius," she whispered against his mouth almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

"Good night, Hermione." He released her.

Hermione closed her eyes and replayed all that was Lucius in her head - his voice, his hands, his mouth, his hard cock. She slept with a married man. And it was the best sex of her life. She knew she'd probably be punished somewhere down the line for this, but part of her was reeling at how easy it all was with Lucius. They were an unlikely couple, but they just fit together like pieces of a puzzle. It was as though they were meant to be.

* * *

When Hermione used the Floo to return to her room in Grimmauld Place, she was surprised to find Ginny pacing in there.

"Ginny!" she exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"We have to talk," she said sternly.

Hermione walked over to the bed and sat down, propping herself up on the pillows.

The redhead stopped before her, but averted her eyes down to the floor. "It's about Ron," she said. "You have to stop this thing with Lucius Malfoy immediately."

"Ginny, I'm not in the mood for lectures tonight," Hermione said, losing her patience. "I know what you're going to say, but I just don't want to hear it now."

"Hermione, Ron's dying."

Now she was really irritated and rolled her eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. No one ever died of a broken heart; human race would go extinct if that were the case. I know he'll be upset for a while, but he'll get over it and find a witch who's more compatible for him."

"No, listen!" Ginny demanded in urgency. "He is dying. He was diagnosed with soerilia, a rare blood disease. He may only have a few years to live at most."

"If this is a joke, it's in poor taste," Hermione said, although she knew it was unlikely that Ginny would make something like this up. "If this is a ploy to stop me from seeing Lucius, then you're out of line."

"It's true. Ask Harry. He was there when Ron got his test results at St. Mungo's. Ron made Harry promise not to tell anyone until he could tell us all himself when we go to the Burrow for Christmas." Ginny's eyes brimmed with tears. Hermione knew at once that she was telling the truth.

How could this be happening? Hermione never once noticed signs of any disease in Ron. Guilt punched her with full force. She had been so happy few moments ago, now she felt like the worst person in the world. Had she somehow willed Ron to get ill, so he could be out of the picture? She wanted Lucius so badly that perhaps she subconsciously magicked him to get sick. Immediately, she dismissed the thought. That sort of magic would require conscious effort to cast a curse; bad thoughts alone would not cause people to develop serious illnesses.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She never wanted Ron to die!

"Oh, Ginny! I'm so sorry. I feel like this is all my fault."

Ginny sat down next to her and hugged her. "Don't blame yourself. It's not anybody's fault. How could it be? But obviously, you can't keep seeing Malfoy, or anybody. He doesn't need to waste his energy on feeling miserable."

Lucius. Hermione closed her eyes and pictured him in the shower. She could still smell his body wash and feel his hands stroking her. How could she give up the wizard who made her feel so happy and alive? And what exactly was she giving him up for? Surely Ron wouldn't take her back after such a humiliating break; he was so angry and hurt. If she went back to him now, he'd assume that Harry told her. Ron had too much pride to accept her pity ... right?

Then a horrifying, mad thought snaked through her brain. Hermione didn't fully process it before voicing it to her friend, "What if he's lying?"

Ginny gasped. "Huh?"

"What if he's pretending to be sick, so we'd get back together?" Hermione sat up, as her theory made her more animated. "Maybe he thinks it's the only way I'd accept his proposal?"

Ginny's eyes widened in disgust. "Hermione Granger, that's a beastly thing to say! How can you be so selfish? You would honestly think that my brother would lie to our entire family just to trick you?"

"But it's just... If he had soerilia, wouldn't there have been some symptoms? It's a blood disease, right? It could be hereditary. So how is it that no one else on your side of the family has been diagnosed with something similar? You have so many siblings that chances are high that someone else in your family could have it too."

Ginny stood up. "Well, maybe you don't know everything. Maybe the Healers don't either. Or maybe they do and can answer those questions the way I can't. For your information, Ron told Harry that he was glad you ended things, because if you had agreed to marry him, he'd have to call off the wedding now. He cares about you so much, he wanted to protect you and deny himself one thing that could bring him happiness before he dies! I can't believe you'd think he'd be this monster with ulterior motives! Why did you even stay with him for so long if you think he's capable of such a thing?" Ginny stormed out of her room and slammed the door behind her.

Hermione didn't know what to think anymore. If Ron was going to end things now if they were still together, then that certainly disproved her initial theory that he was making it up to get her back. What did all this mean for her and Lucius?


	12. Chapter 11

Hermione woke up to a painful throb in her neck. She had been up half the night reading about soerilia in the Ministry's library and had fallen asleep over a bulky medical volume. As she yawned, she glanced down at her notes.

 _Soerilia is a rare genetic disorder that affects pureblood wizards. Mainly hereditary, but spontaneous mutations account for 20% of all cases. Wizards with this condition have blood that hardens in their veins after they reach adulthood. Cure unknown._

Feeling worried, Hermione decided to visit Ron. When he didn't answer, she walked in. The flat was much like she left it, though slightly messier. She tapped at the bedroom door.

"Come in," came a weak voice.

"Hi," Hermione said. The room was dark with curtains tightly shut. Ron was lying in an unmade bed with crumbled tissues strewn all over the blanket.

"You need fresh air," Hermione said, flicking her wand to open the curtains and the window. "It's not good to stay cooped up in the dark in your condition."

"Harry shouldn't have told you," Ron muttered, falling back onto the pillows.

"He didn't. It was Ginny," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Ron, why don't you take a shower? I can make you some tea, and you can tell me what the Healers told you."

He summoned a folded piece of parchment and handed it to her. It was a diagnosis report with Ron's blood test and treatment plan.

A terrible wave of guilt consumed Hermione. She felt like the worst human being for doubting him.

She aimed her wand at the curtains. "You need sunlight and fresh air. It's not good for you to lock yourself away from the world."

"What does it really matter, eh? I'm as good as dead anyway," he said listlessly and looked away from her, pulling the covers over his head.

"You mustn't say that. I've been reading about soerilia all night. It takes many months, few years even, before the disease ki- runs its course." Ron winced at those words, but Hermione quickly continued, "In that time, a cure could be found - a potion, or a spell."

"So? What've I got that's so great to live for? You've left me. I'm never going to distinguish myself as an Auror. Everything in my life has always been mediocre. The world's not going to care if I die today or years from now."

Hermione's frustration with his attitude got the better of her. "Who cares what the world thinks? Think about your family and friends. We all care!"

Ron threw back his blanket and gave her a wounded stare. " _You_ don't. You came to see me out of pity. If it wasn't for this blasted disease, I would only hear from you when it was time to sell the bloody flat."

"You're wrong. I came out of concern, not pity. Whatever happened between us, I'm always going to be your friend first, and as your friend I care about your well-being. It has nothing to do with pity; it's love. I told you, just because we didn't work out as a couple, doesn't mean that I stopped loving you as a person."

He was still defiant. "You still wouldn't be here now if Harry hadn't opened his mouth to my sister. She had no right to tell you or anybody!"

"Ron, in her defense, this is not the sort of secret anyone can keep for long. Do you really plan on waiting to tell your family at Christmas?"

"No. Now that I think about it, I'm not going to tell anybody anything about this. Why ruin their holiday with this?"

Hermione was astonished by his answer. "You can't be serious."

"People treat terminally ill different. Call it whatever you want, but I don't need that. It's better this way."

"But Ron, it'll break their hearts. If the worst should happen to you and they find out afterwards, they'll be devastated that they were kept in the dark. They deserve to know, so nothing is left unsaid on their part. It's not important for you, but you're not in their shoes."

"Hermione, it's my decision. I don't want them to know. I don't want anyone to know until ... it kills me. If there's going to be some kind of cure, great. If not, I want my life to go on as normal. It's my life and death; I've already decided."

"I think you're making a mistake."

Ron let out a snide laugh. "Yeah, well, what else is new?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You don't have to decide now," she reasoned. "Why don't you get out of bed and take a nice hot shower? Then we come see me on my lunch break."

Ron sniffed. "I don't feel like getting out of bed just yet. The only thing I really want is for you to say that this whole thing is a mistake and that you want to marry me."

Hermione put her arm around him. "Ron, I can't do that. But I can be here for you. No matter what you decide, I'm here for you. However, you can't wallow in misery like this. You'll make yourself sicker." She stood up and went to get a cold, wet washcloth from the lavatory. Dabbing it on Ron's flushed, shiny face, she tried to persuade him as best she could. "Why don't I leave work early and we can have a nice day in Diagon Alley or something? My treat."

Ron's nose was all swollen and red and his eyes bloodshot. Hermione thought she had never seen anyone look more heartbroken in all of her life. He managed a watery smile her way.

"All right," he agreed, "but only if there's a hot fudge sundae for me."

"It's a deal," Hermione said.

Later that day, she was thrilled to receive a favorable decision in Lucius's case, but when he owled with an invitation to celebrate, Hermione had to decline. Ron needed her today. For her and Lucius there would always be another day, but this could mean life or death for Ron.

* * *

The autumn weather was still balmy as September gave way to October, turning the trees around the Malfoy Manor a brilliant golden hue. Hermione's confusion, however, prevented her from enjoying the fair weather. She knew she was falling hard for Lucius, but knew it was unwise to rush into anything serious with a married man. Still, she feared it was too late for her part. Although Lucius often spoke of the depths of his affections, he never once used the word Hermione had longed to hear. On her birthday, he mentioned how only fools have a choice when it comes to love, but had never used that word since to describe his feelings for her.

Nevertheless, Hermione spend all of her weekends with Lucius. Their time evolved into a very satisfying routine: they'd play with Scorpius, have lunch, and then go horseback riding. Their evenings were spent in more amorous pursuits. Lucius proved to be a very inventive and patient lover. They spent many hours learning what pleased each other. Hermione noticed that Lucius seemed happier, younger even with the stern lines around his eyes and mouth softening more and more each day. Hermione liked to think it was because of her.

On the last day of October, the sky turned gray and the golden leaves had fallen from the trees, giving hint of the winter chill to come, but it didn't stop Lucius and Hermione from enjoying their ride. They stopped on the other side of the lake to water their horses.

"I wish we'd started riding sooner," Hermione said, as she descended from her mount and stretched her legs.

"Me too," Lucius agreed. "You ride really well for a beginner."

She scoffed at him. "What a weak praise coming from someone who rides like he was born in the saddle."

"I learned from my father. One either learns to keep up with his dread speed or gets left in the dust. But my apologies. I didn't mean for my compliment to sound weak. I just meant that you ride well. For anyone." He took her gloved hand and kissed it.

"Thank you."

He pulled her tenderly against his chest and kissed her. Hermione's arms went around his waist pulling him close, feeling him harden in response to their intimacy. She'd never get tired of the effect she was having on him.

"Let's race back!" Hermione challenged him, as she reluctantly pulled away.

"Do I sense a wager, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked, helping her mount her steed.

"Winner chooses the reward," she declared, taking off in a gallop toward the stables. The dried leaves swirled about her as she raced ahead; however, Lucius soon easily outpaced her.

"Come now, Lucius, what do you want for your reward?" Hermione asked him on the way back from the stables. The wizard was being purposefully secretive, and she was having none of that.

Lucius leered and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Hermione kissed him back, just as hard.

"I'll tell you later," he said, pulling slightly away.

"Why not now?"

He smiled, scooped her up, and Apparated her to his bedroom, setting her down on the bed.

"Don't move," he whispered. "I want to do everything for you."

He divested himself off his clothes, and then slowly undressed her, kissing every part of her body, until she too was naked, shivering slightly on the cool sheets. Lucius pulled Hermione to her feet and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her to straddle him. They kissed repeatedly, tasting each other. Lucius grinding against her until he couldn't take it anymore. Tenderly, he began to slide into her, holding her slim form tight against him. Hermione moaned as his cock stretched her. She was holding onto his broad shoulders, fingers digging in as he pushed.

"So tight," Lucius grunted through clenched teeth as Hermione gasped, her body tensing up at the intrusion.

"Relax," he whispered into her ear, pulling her against him so her chest was pressed to his. "It's just me."

A moan escaped her lips as Hermione clung to him, his cock now fully inside her. He pulled out and pushed back in slowly. Then he pushed in and out again, slightly faster now, his lips finding hers, their tongues entwining. He went faster and harder, making her gasp and groan. She closed her eyes, shutting out the rest of the world, wanting to pretend that this is the only thing that mattered in her life.

"Open your eyes," Lucius groaned, and she did, staring into his.

Lucius wrapped one arm firmly around her, while his other hand travelled between them to her throbbing clit. He began thrusting as deep as he could into her, as his skilled fingers now wreaked havoc on her clit. Hermione shuddered as an orgasm tore through her. Yet he continued slamming into her as hard as he could, not removing his fingers from her clit.

"Lucius!" Hermione moaned, a ribbon of sweat trailing between her breasts. "Please. I can't take it anymore."

Lucius continued regardless, and she reached down, grabbing his wrist to pull his hand away. He chuckled between groans as her fingers scrabbled with his, her body convulsing over and over.

"Lucius, please," she implored, her fingers slippery against his, her body writhing as another powerful orgasm made her legs tremble and her pussy clench down hard on his ruthless cock.

A curse left his lips as he came. He shot into her three times, rolling her clitoris between his fingers until she orgasmed again, moaning with him, her body shaking violently. Eventually, he pulled his fingers away and held her to him, stroking her hair. Hermione unwrapped her legs from around him and pulled herself off his lap, collapsing onto the bed behind him.

"Lucius," she moaned, rolling over. "Why do you never listen?"

He laughed. "You didn't really want me to stop."

Hermione smiled, burying her head in a pillow. "I'm starving."

"Is that all you can think about?" he said in mock indignation. "I think we've earned a shower."

"Separately," Hermione said firmly.

Lucius's face fell.

"Otherwise, I won't be able to walk." She hauled herself off of the bed and into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later she was washed and dressed. Lucius came into the room, wearing dinner robes.

"I thought you were hungry," he said.

Hermione looked at the clock. It was almost ten.

"Now?" She raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it a little late?"

"Not for dinner."

"I can't stay another night. I have work tomorrow and didn't bring my work clothes," she said, avoiding mentioning that she promised to be present at Ron's Healer's appointment at St. Mungo's.

"My house-elf can fetch your robes. Or you could skip work," he suggested.

Hermione gave him a dirty look. "I'm not skivving off work, Lucius. But I suppose if I had my clothes, I wouldn't have to rush off in the morning."

"Then it's settled."

"Let me get ready." Hermione disappeared into the bedroom and came out a few minutes later wearing an elegant, red dress, which set off her dark hair.

Lucius looked at her admiringly. "You expect me to control myself?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Dinner first, dessert later."

They arrived at the Rosewood Place where they had their first date last month. The waiter led them to a secluded table for two, where they sat down next to each other. Lucius ordered for them putting his hand around her waist, pulling her close to him, their legs touching.

They ate, talking about anything and everything. Lucius's arm moved upwards, around her shoulders, his fingers brushing the top of her breast until she pushed it away, looking worriedly at the people at the next table.

The waiter came by and cleared their plates from the main course, pouring them more wine. Lucius took a sip, smiling at her as he touched her thigh under the table, his hand concealed by the table cloth. They talked as they drank, and Hermione felt Lucius slowly run his fingers up and down her thigh, pushing the hem of her dress higher each time. She ignored him for a while and they carried on with their conversation until his wandering fingers suddenly forced their way upwards, brushing her underwear.

She gasped, "Lucius! What are you doing?"

He smiled. "Shhh. Don't make a fuss." His fingers slid under her knickers, touching her pussy lips.

"Lucius, I'm warning you!" Hermione said. "The waiter's coming!"

He smirked, his fingertips gently grazing her clit, arousing her. Lucius pinched it slightly, and her thighs tensed,

"This is a bad idea," she warned him again with lack of conviction in her voice. Hermione knew she didn't want him to stop, no matter how uncomfortable she was with public sexcapades.

The waiter had arrived at their table and put the desserts down.

"May I get you anything else?" he asked, looking curiously at Hermione, who was staring resolutely down at the table, her cheeks burning red.

"No, thank you. That will be all," Lucius said, pushing a finger into Hermione's tightness.

The waiter hesitated, his eyes fixed on Hermione but eventually he walked away, looking over his shoulder once or twice.

Lucius's fingers were plunging into her pussy now, and Hermione reached under the table, grabbing his wrist.

"You're going to make me come."

Lucius smiled, pulled her into him so her face was pressed against his chest. "Come then. Come for me. I want to feel you come around my fingers."

His thumb pushed down on her clit, and she gasped, breathing in his warm scent as his fingers began rubbing her sensitive button.

Hermione's thighs were shaking now, her looming orgasm making her sweat as Lucius chuckled softly in her ear.

"Come for me, Hermione. Come as much as you like. Then I'll take you home and give you the hardest fuck you've ever had. Come on, don't hold back. No one's looking." He kissed her ear. "Don't hold back."

His words, his tickling breath, set off her orgasm. Hermione moaned into his chest, shaking, her legs perspiring and trembling.

"Oh, Lucius!" Her moans were muffled by his shirt as she shook in his arms, his fingers still playing with her until she wrenched them away. They broke apart, Hermione still shaking, crossing her legs, refusing to look at Lucius as she pushed her dessert around the plate.

"Better eat that. You're going to need all the energy you can get."

Hermione ignored him.

A few minutes later the waiter was back, clearing up the plates, smiling at them as Lucius left him a large tip.

"Come on then," Lucius said. "Let's go home."

 _Home?_

Yes. Malfoy Manor was starting to feel more and more like home.

"You still haven't told me what you wanted," she said as they walked toward the Apparition point. "For your reward," Hermione went on to clarify when Lucius gave her a blank stare.

He gave another mysterious smile. "Oh, that. I think I'll tarry awhile. You'll know when I'll come to collect it."


	13. Chapter 12

"Scorpius, stop that," Hermione scolded the child as he played with his breakfast. She really tried to interject a forceful note into her voice, but found it difficult as it was good to see the youngster so happy. Despite his personal tragedy, discipline must not be neglected she reminded herself.

They were enjoying a breakfast of fruits and croissants that the house elf had prepared for them when Scorpius decided to pretend the sliced apples were airplanes. The more time Hermione spent with the boy, the more she discovered that he had a sharp mind and inquisitive nature, but could be very impulsive and silly.

Ignoring her reprimand, he continued to buzz the apple sliced around the room. "Did you ever ride on a big airplane, Miss Hermione?" he asked.

"Scorpius," she said with stern tone. He looked back at her with wide, innocent eyes, but that expression didn't fool Hermione this time. "Sit down and either eat your apple or set it back on your plate. Your grandfather will be very displeased if you don't learn not to play with your food during meals."

Scorpius immediately sat down and ate his apples. According to her parenting guide, the best way to teach children proper behavior was to take away privileges; however, Hermione found that evoking the wrath of Lucius was even more effective.

"That's better," she praised the little boy.

He reached for the croissant. "But I can play with my food once the meal is finished?" he asked, smiling.

"No, don't ever play with your food. That's very bad manners," Hermione replied, feeling a little exasperated.

Scorpius raised his croissant in the air. Hermione glared at him, and he grinned and quickly bit into the croissant, dripping blueberry filling down his chin.

"You're a mess," she laughed, reaching for the napkin and dabbing at his chin. "Now I know why all of your prospective nannies were completely twisted in knots over you."

"Twisted in knots?" he echoed excitedly. "Like in a game?"

She laughed again, but before she could answer another voice spoke to them from the doorway, "I seem to have missed all the excitement."

"Lucius!" Hermione exclaimed, as their eyes met. Her heart leaped in her chest and her throat went dry. Would she ever get used to his presence?

"Grandfather!" Scorpius scrambled out of his chair and ran to him. It was obvious that the little boy adored Lucius, no matter how afraid he was of his disciplinary measures.

"Come and eat with us," Scorpius said, jumping up and down at his side. "But you can't play with your food until after breakfast is finished. Miss Hermione said so."

"I certainly did not," she countered. "I never said you could ever play with your food."

Lucius sat down and winked at Hermione. "Then we should do whatever makes Miss Hermione happy."

Hermione blushed. "Why, thank you."

An owl flew into the room and dropped a letter on Lucius's plate. He opened it and quickly perused the contents. Hermione noticed his jaw clenched several times.

"Bad news?" she asked.

"Not bad. It was from St. Mungo's. Narcissa is out of her coma."

* * *

The air was rich with scent of wet earth and leaves, as Hermione followed Lucius along the trail that led to the woods at the edge of the Malfoy grounds. It had been the first time they were seeing each other all week. He and Scorpius were busy visiting Mrs. Malfoy in her ward. All Lucius had said on the subject was that she had an amnesia and couldn't recall anything after the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione felt more and more like the worst person in the world. Narcissa Malfoy had done nothing to her, and yet Hermione was having an brazen affair with her husband in the home that they had built together. Her face burned with shame.

They came to a clearing and stopped near a pond of crystal water.

"This is beautiful!" Hermione breathed out as she dismounted from her mare.

"I'm glad you like it," Lucius said.

The house-elf had prepared a romantic picnic for two with chicken sandwiches, plums, grapes, and assorted pastries under the canopy of shimmering cloth that kept out the chill of late autumn.

"Is it just us?" she asked.

"Yes, of course. Be sure to handsomely tip your waiter," Lucius joked as he filled their glasses with sparkling white wine.

Hermione reached up to kiss his cheek. "So far the service here is excellent."

They devoured their sandwiches, then moved on to the pastries for dessert. Hermione bit into the hazelnut one and nearly swooned at the taste. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly to savor the light, creamy flavor. When she opened her eyes, she noticed Lucius was watching her with a curious expression.

"I take it the dessert meets with your approval?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "How could you tell?" she joked back. When they were alone like this, she could almost forget everything else. "Let's walk around, so I can work some of this off."

They took a turn about the water in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Do you come here often?" she asked, gesturing around.

"I did when I was younger. As a child I used to play here by myself for hours."

"Was it lonely for you?"

"No, it was great fun... I can't believe I'm telling you all this," Lucius admitted.

Hermione chewed on her lip before asking her next question, "What was it like growing up here, with so much privilege?"

"My life was like that of any other wizards in some ways. What becomes tiresome is being seen as an institution. I took advantage of it. I always enjoyed the power and influence. I never knew what it was like to have none of those things until the war..."

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder, feeling completely at peace. Every moment with Lucius was so special. Hermione could easily imagine a future with him. Then she yanked herself back from such thoughts. There was no future. Narcissa was out of her coma, soon she would have to leave St. Mungo's and come back home. This was her home. Hermione was the interloper.

"Care to race back?" Lucius asked once they mounted their horses again.

"You're on!" Hermione replied, sending her mare into a gallop. They raced swiftly through the woods and across the meadow. The world rushed by her in a streak of rich colors. From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Lucius pulling ahead of her, but she caught on. The horses were side by side until the very end when Hermione pulled ahead and won the race by a nose. She climbed off her mare with a grin on her face.

"Congratulations," Lucius said with a wry smile.

"Thanks! We were pretty great," she replied smugly.

"And so modest," he teased.

Hermione's heart fluttered as Lucius took her into his arms. He kissed her slowly and deeply, as if they had all the time in the world to be together. She was melting, losing herself in the glorious sensations swirling through her body.

When the kiss ended, Hermione drew in a deep breath. "Was that my reward for winning?"

Lucius touched his forehead to hers. "No, that was my consolation prize for losing. This is yours..." He lowered his lips to hers for another passionate kiss.

Before she could lose herself in his embrace again, Hermione pulled back.

"Lucius, we need to talk."

"Right now?" he grumbled.

"Yes, now," she insisted. "We can't keep avoiding this discussion forever."

"What discussion is that?"

"Isn't it obvious? Lucius, your wife came out of coma. She'll be coming home eventually. We can't carry on like this. I know neither of us planned for this to happen, but this has to end ... doesn't it?" Hermione couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye as she said it.

"Is that what you want?" he asked evenly.

"This isn't about what I want. It's about right and wrong. This is wrong. I don't want to be the other woman, Lucius. Even if your marriage was effectively over before, your wife doesn't remember that now and so she doesn't deserve this."

"I don't need a lecture on right or wrong. I know the difference. This is different. It's not some tawdry affair. What we have is..." He gently brushed her cheek with his knuckles.

"Is what?" Hermione prompted when he didn't continue. Her eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know. I'm not good with romance, never have been. I know it's rare," he said, piercing her with his gaze. "I may not have the proper words to express it, but we both felt it that first night at Wordsworth's. Hermione, what happened between us cannot be undone." He moved to touch her face again. "Do you regret it all now, is that it?" He looked almost frightened to hear her answer.

"No, not a bit," she quickly reassured him, then looked down again. "But it can't continue now that Narcissa will be recovering. You know neither of us would carry on under her roof while she needs care and starts to put her life back together. She'll be grieving for Draco and Astoria all over again ... it wouldn't be right. It's the lowest of the low."

He sighed. "I know."

"There is only one logical conclusion. We have to end it, Lucius." Her voice cracked and her hands shook as she said it.

His mirthless laugh startled her. "Do you really think it's that simple? Just because it's wrong for us to be together doesn't mean we can wish our feelings away. We've tried restraint before."

"I'm not saying it'll be easy. We just can't get carried away," Hermione reasoned. "No matter how we feel or how much it hurts, we have to stop. We have no future, Lucius! If we continue, it'll end with more tears. Someone once told me you can't build happiness on someone else's sorrow. And that's exactly what we'll be doing if we selfishly carry on."

"No future? Is that how you saw us all this time?" His tone was ice cold.

"Not ideally, but realistically it's true. What did you think would happen? Narcissa would wake up and grant you a divorce, and then we'd ride off into the sunset together?" Hermione was nearly hysterical now. Why couldn't he understand? Why was he making it so difficult? Couldn't he see that they had other people to consider?

"So we should be miserable and disregard our needs entirely? There's no prize for martyrdom, Hermione."

"There isn't one for adultery either," she countered.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me it meant nothing!" he said fiercely, grasping her to him.

Hot, thick tears flooded Hermione's eyes. "It's not what I meant. It was everything!" She started to sob.

Lucius pulled her close. "We'll figure this out. Once Narcissa recovers, I'll petition for divorce. I'll be free then, and none of this will be wrong ever again," he promised.

Hermione drew back from him. Somehow it all sounded like a distant, impossible daydream. She was not going to fool herself into thinking it would all come true. There was always a possibility that old feelings could come back and the couple could reconcile, leaving her even more brokenhearted.

"I have to go," she squeaked out, wiping away at her tears. "We should both take time to really think this through. Ending a marriage is not an easy decision. I can't ask it of you; only you can decide that, so take your time and figure out what you really want."

"You are all I want!" He remained intractable.

"Once you're living with your wife again, you may think very differently. I don't want to get my hopes up, only to have them dashed. She really needs you now; it would be cruel to just drop divorce on her lap. The holidays are coming up, so let's discuss our situation afterwards."

His eyes widened. "That's almost two months."

"It's best to just focus on our families for now and then discuss how we want to proceed with our situation," Hermione said.

Lucius looked part wounded, part enraged, but he didn't say anything. Nor did he try to follow her when she turned and walked back to the manor. By the time she stood in the fireplace to use the Floo Network, he still hadn't returned to stop her. Hermione couldn't tell if she was more relieved or disappointed. She knew she was doing the right thing, but no platitude could soothe the ache in her heart.

* * *

 **Dear readers, thank you all for your incredible support on this and other stories! I'm always interested in what you think.**

 **Hope everyone has a fabulous weekend!**

 **Lana**


	14. Chapter 13

Hermione used to love Christmas and the weeks leading up to it. This year, however, she found the whole thing burdensome. Even shopping for presents couldn't free her of Lucius, as she found herself picking out gifts for him and Scorpius. She would probably have to send them via owl post, as she wasn't sure if she'd see either of them in time. The thought was rather depressing. The only thing that drew her out of her listlessness were her weekend walks with Ron. At first she didn't want to go; she didn't want to do anything. Now their outings were the highlights of her weeks. It was fun exploring new restaurants and eateries in London.

There was a knock on her door at precisely three o'clock.

Hermione opened the door and smiled at Ron. "You're always on time."

"Why wouldn't I be? I love our walks."

They left Grimmauld Place and strolled through the familiar neighborhood in silence. They crossed the street and entered the park, walking past empty duck pond.

Ron took a deep breath. "I've decided to tell them, Hermione. On Christmas when they're all there, like we've talked about before. Will you be there with me ... when I do it?"

She squeezed his hand. "Of course. You won't have to do it alone. How are the treatments? You look better."

"It's progressing quickly. But ... I'm managing," he said, not looking at her.

It had to be bad if he was so reluctant to discuss it. They stopped to buy a couple of hot chocolates from the park vendor and took a sit on the bench across from the duck pond to enjoy their drinks. It reminded Hermione a bit of a lake on Malfoy estate, the one that the gazebo overlooked. She blinked back her tears and turned her attention back to Ron as he chatted. The conversation turned to the developments in their professional life, then to more personal topics. Ron confessed that he had no interest in dating anyone since their relationship ended, and Hermione volunteered that she wasn't seeing anyone either, which was true.

"I have an early Christmas present for you," Ron said, then took a small velvet box out of his jacket pocket.

"Ron, you shouldn't have. I'm saving to give you yours at the Burrow."

"Open it," he urged her.

Carefully Hermione lifted the lid of the box. When she saw what lay inside, the color drained from her face.

"Ron," she breathed out. Inside was the pearl ring surrounded by tiny sparkling diamonds; the very same one she admired at Pandora's Box with Harry so long ago.

"May I?" Ron asked. He took the ring from the box, and Hermione didn't protest when he slipped it onto her finger.

"It's pretty," she said.

"Hermione, I know our relationship is different from what you want in a marriage. But I don't know how long I have and what little time I do have I want to spend it with you." He took her hand look straight into her eyes. "You're the only girl I ever loved. Will you marry me?"

"Ron, I care about you very much, you know that. But I don't know if ... if..." He waited patiently for her to continue, his eyes wide with hope. Hermione searched her heart, wanting to find the right words. "I don't know if I can be a good wife to you. I'm just not sure I ..." She could bring herself to wound him with her next words. _I'm just not sure I can ever love you. Not the way I love Lucius._

"I know it's not how you pictured it, but you'll be a great wife, Hermione. I know it. I know you said your feelings changed, but knowing that you care is enough for me. It won't be long marriage anyway considering this stupid disease. We could make it work."

Hermione looked down at the ring on her finger, struggling with her emotions. She felt grateful for his friendship and terrible pity for his diagnosis. She could make his last few months happy. For short-term marriage, was friendship enough? Was it?

 _I have to decline,_ Hermione decided. _It's not fair to him when my heart will always belong to another._

But Lucius was married. Did she really want to live with nothing but his memory for companionship? Would that be enough for the rest of her life? Maybe.

She did care for Ron and didn't want to hurt him, especially not when he had to put his health first. Perhaps this was as good a chance as any to atone for her adulterous behavior. Like he said, it wouldn't be forever, not with soerilia rapidly solidifying his blood.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Yes, Ron, I'll marry you."

* * *

 _Meet me at Rosewood, at 7:30._

That was all her letter to Lucius said. She was afraid of writing more in case Narcissa would see it. She dreaded having to tell him, but was also excited to see him. Christmas past by in a blur, and everyone was busy finalizing their plans for New Year's Eve.

Hermione showed up early to their favorite restaurant and waited for him on the patio. It was a blistering cold day, but she didn't care; it reminded her of their first date when she did exactly that.

Words died in her mouth when she saw him him walk up to her. Even in thick black winter cloak, he looked magnificent.

"Merry Christmas," he said.

"Merry Christmas," she replied, shivering. "Belated Christmas, I suppose."

"Let's get inside," Lucius suggested. When they were seated, he spoke up first, "I was surprised to receive your note."

"I needed to talk to you," Hermione admitted, but now felt too nervous to broach the subject. She asked him instead about Scorpius and Narcissa. The little boy was doing well. He had a new nanny and was making terrific progress with his tutor. Narcissa was regaining her memory, although her distaste for her marriage apparently remained unaltered.

By the time they ordered dessert, Hermione was running out of topics to discuss with him. Yet she still didn't have the courage to tell him about her engagement.

"I got you something." Lucius reached Ito his pocket and withdrew a black box with green bow.

"You shouldn't have, but thank you," she said, opening the box and lifting a beautiful enamel compact with a miniature painting of Chantron's Danae. It was so simple and perfect.

"It's beautiful," Hermione said.

"When I saw it I thought of you."

"I love it," she said. "Before I forget." Hermione rummaged in her bag and produced two boxes. One for Lucius and one for his grandson. "It's for you and Scorpius."

Lucius opened his gift. It was a silver pen with his name engraved on the top. He looked a bit puzzled.

She grinned. "Just think of it as a Muggle quill. You're a difficult wizard to shop for."

"I like it. It reminds me of you." His eyes pierced hers. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"Then kiss me," he said, leaning over her.

"I can't. What if someone will see us?"

"I don't care."

Hermione pressed her hand against his chest, breaking eye contact to look down at her chocolate cheesecake. Her appetite vanished. "I do. It's why I needed to see you, actually."

"I thought you needed to see me because you missed me."

She shook her head, still not looking at him. "I mean I did miss you, but it's not why." Her heart began pounding harder in her chest. She just had to say it. "Lucius, Ron asked me to marry him, and I agreed."

He pulled away from her. "I don't understand."

"Because of his rapid decline, Ron and I decided to get married. I don't want to, obviously," Hermione said gravely and slowly. "I just can't leave him right now, and it's the one thing he really wants before he dies."

"But what about us? What about what we've discussed? Where does that leave me?"

She placed her hand on top of his and finally looked into his eyes. "Lucius, I don't mean to hurt you. It pains me to do it, but please understand my situation. How can I live with myself if I walked away from him at the time like this? He may only have about a year to live, so it may not be as huge a sacrifice as it seems."

His silver eyes looked stormy gray with fury. "If he cared about you, he would want you to be happy, not guilt you into granting him a death wish."

"I care about him, and I want the last months of his life to be as happy as possible. If getting married is the one thing he wants and it's the last thing I can do for him, then I'll do it. For me, it's a year or so of out of my life. For him, that's all he'll ever have. I can't deprive him of that. Sometimes in life we can't only think of our own happiness. Besides we're not really ending anything, we're simply putting our feelings aside until we can act on them again."

"Won't the wedding be too much for him, if his soerilia is so advanced?" Lucius questioned, sneering in disgust.

"We're not doing anything too elaborate. We're just having a simple ceremony in the Ministry Hall, then reception on the beach at Bill and Fleur's."

"And the honeymoon? I'm sure he'll suddenly have all the energy in the world to consummate the marriage," Lucius said with a biting tone.

"We just talked about going to the Lake District for a few days. It won't be much of a honeymoon, Lucius."

"Mark my words, as soon as you say "I do", Weasley will make a miraculous recovery. What will you do then?"

"I-I d-don't know," Hermione stammered.

Lucius leaned over her again. "What about us, Hermione? Doesn't this feel right? You said you missed me. We don't have to stop. Even if you go through with this charade, we could still have this."

They were sitting so close now, but their bodies didn't touch. Hermione couldn't stop a tingle of excitement coursing through her in this secret, stolen moment. She knew she shouldn't be thrilled by things like that, but she couldn't help it.

"It's wrong and it only makes it harder, Lucius. I already have to live with the guilt of what I did to Narcissa, I don't want the same guilt carry into my marriage, no matter how I feel about it."

"This is madness, Hermione! Why don't you see how very convenient it is? Ask him to show you proof of this illness."

She could feel his frustration and tried to be calm. "We went over this. I saw the proof, Lucius. I doubted it too, at first. I had paper work from St. Mungo's before my very eyes. What more can there be?"

He leaned to close the distance between them and gently brushed his lips against hers, then deepened the kiss until Hermione thought she might drown from passion. Then he jerked back from her as if burned.

"I respect your decision. However, I do have one request," he said.

She licked her lips. "Certainly. What is it?"

"Be with me one last time."

Hermione blinked. "Can I think about it?"

"Take your time."

They didn't stay long after that. When Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place, she sat on her bed and looked at the gift Lucius gave her. The white enamel glowed in the dark as she fingered the lid. How was this her life?

The decision was so clear to her, but it she was afraid of where it would lead. Would once really be enough, or would it lead to something else? She knew nothing good would come of it, but Hermione didn't have it in her to turn him down.

* * *

 **Thank you all for your reviews! I'm trying to catch up on everything. Everything may seem grim now, but things will start improving for Hermione soon :)**

 **On a personal note, my husband and I are expecting our first child - a baby girl!**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	15. Chapter 14

"So this is it," Lucius said, dropping the last of the litter into the bag. "My attempt at an indoor picnic. What do you think?"

Hermione shrugged, glancing out the window of their hotel room in the Muggle neighborhood. "Not bad. I'm still slightly worried though."

Lucius frowned. "About what?"

She smiled at him mischievously. "I'm just worried you're becoming soft, Mr. Malfoy, with all of your sudden romantic overtures."

"Soft?" Lucius laughed incredulously. "I'm hardly that. Haven't you seen my muscles?"

Hermione smirked. "What muscles?" She laughed as he made a dive for her. "Too slow!" She laughed again. "You can't even catch me..." She wriggled as his hands closed around her waist, pulling her down onto the carpet, his fingers scrabbling under her cashmere jumper, tickling her mercilessly.

"Get off!" she squealed, squirming, almost helpless with laughter.

"Am I still soft?" Lucius asked teasingly, his cold hands taking advantage of her vulnerability.

"No!" Hermione tried in vain to release herself from his ruthless grasp. "You're certainly not! Please, Lucius!" She finally relaxed as his fingers stopped moving. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you." His hands were still under her shirt and he trailed his fingers across her breasts. "You can make it up to me. Let me prove how much of a man I really am."

Hermione laughed. "You need to _prove_ it?"

"Stop." Lucius's mouth dropped onto hers. "Enough of your jests."

She squirmed nervously underneath him. "Lucius, let's go."

He looked at her in surprise. "Go where?"

"To the bedroom." She wriggled out from beneath his body and stood up.

Lucius stood as well. "I can't wait that long." His fingers toyed with the hem of her jumper, but he didn't say anything. His eyes moved over her body, down from her face, pausing briefly on the swell of her chest before continuing down to her waist.

"You are so beautiful." He gave a sudden tug at the soft fabric, allowing him to magically pull it off in one clean move. His eyes took in the sight of her body, his hands moving forward instinctively to admire the smooth skin. His lips devoured hers, and Hermione couldn't help herself, as she returned his passion.

When they broke apart, Lucius ran his forefinger down her cheek, along her neck and across her hard nipple. Hermione breathed in sharply. His finger progressed south to her navel.

"How much do you want me?" The question was asked teasingly of her, and Hermione's lips parted as she stared at him. "How much, Hermione?"

She took a shuddery breath. "More than I should." Her eyes stared into his as his other hand tightened its grip on her bottom.

"What does that mean?" His voice had changed from the soft tone she'd heard all day. It was lower, rougher, and almost primal.

"I..."

His finger slipped down into her skirt, past her underwear, coming to rest on the bare skin. She let out a soft moan as his eyes stared hungrily into hers before moving down, taking in her lips.

"Please." The word came out as a whimper from Hermione's mouth.

"Please what?"

Hermione's eyes gazed helplessly into his, her mouth unable to form the requests that her body was screaming for.

Lucius smiled wolfishly. "You're so sweet. Say it."

She shook her head. If she opened her mouth now she was afraid of what words might escape from her mouth. Instead of words of desire, she might utter words of love - that would render their situation even more heartbreaking.

"I'm addicted to you, Lucius," she managed.

"I know, I know." His tone was understanding but his finger remained on her outer lips, running back and forth, taunting and teasing her nether lips.

"You are the worst," Hermione gasped in awe. "You are just...unbelievable."

Lucius didn't respond, his spare hand moved to the front of his trousers, his eyes fixed on hers, daring her to stop him, daring her to stop the whole scenario, which was quickly unfolding in front of them. Hermione didn't stop anything. She reached up, her hand securing itself on the back of his neck as they kissed, their mouths interlinking as they stumbled backwards, trying not to trample on the picnic set up on the floor. Breathless, they ended up against the wall, the paneling smooth and warm against Hermione's back, her heart pounding as Lucius's mouth found hers again, his murmurs folding into the invigorating kiss.

Hermione broke away for a second. Her eyes dropped to the front of Lucius's trousers.

"May I?" she asked. Her hand came out, her mind rejuvenated by the sudden reckless attitude, which consumed her as Lucius's own excitement became more evident.

"Don't tease me." His eyes were fixed on her face, as her fingers ran lightly up the zip at his crotch.

"I'm not teasing." Hermione's voice was calmer than she'd expected. She unbuckled his belt, gripping it hard to try and stop her hands from trembling. "It may be the last time for a great long while, if not for good."

His hands closed around hers. "Hermione, I don't want you to think of this as a farewell. I know I asked you to be with me one last time, but I meant is as the last time before you become Weasley's wife, not as the last time ever."

"I know, but we don't know what the future may bring." Hermione looked up into his face and smiled. "Lucius, I want us to enjoy ourselves without worries. Let's not think about anything but this moment."

Lucius held his hands up in mock-surrender. "If you insist."

Hermione smiled. "I do."

She finally succeeded in undoing his belt and stood back as he undressed the rest of the way.

"There." Lucius smiled and dropped his shirt to the floor.

Hermione dropped to her knees in front of him and swallowed hard, hesitating for the slightest of seconds. This wasn't an act she performed often with him, and something she was still self-conscious about.

Lucius's face was a picture of excited expectation. "Open up."

She parted her lips slightly and ran her tongue along his smooth skin. Lucius let out a small grunt at the first contact and she looked up at him. "Am I doing it right?"

He nodded, eyes closing. "Perfect. Perfect."

Reassured, Hermione licked up and down the engorged length, her unskilled tongue traveling around his balls before descending towards the swollen head of his cock.

"That's right." Lucius's breathing was shallow as he opened his eyes to watch her tongue move around, flickering in response to his shortened breath. Her hand came out to grasp the base of his erection, holding it in place as she worked on the head, covering it with saliva as he moaned in appreciation. She caressed the tip for a short while longer before stretching her lips to take the head into her mouth. Lucius watched breathlessly as she pleasured him, and his hands travelled to her head, fingers entwining in the curls, holding her there as her eyes flicked up to meet his.

"Suck it." The words rasped from his mouth, as her hand began stroking the base of his cock. She sucked on the flushed head, felt his grip on her hair tighten, and he grunted as her other hand gripped his muscular thigh, her mouth pleasuring him instinctively.

"Hermione ... so good..." the word trailed out to an aching moan as he closed his eyes and tilted his head up, as she released his cock and moved her attentions to his balls, sucking them.

"That's ... that's..." His words were lost as he grunted appreciatively when her teasing lips moved back to his thick cock and sealed around it, moving up and down, sucking with vigor and determination.

"That's so good. You have no idea..."

Her mouth moved further up, eyes closing as she concentrated on taking more of him in. She felt Lucius grip harder to her hair, moving her up and down, and the utter excitement of it all aroused her even more. Her mouth engulfed more of his tumescence, and she now had at least two thirds of it in and, by the sound of the guttural moans reaching her ears, Lucius was enjoying himself.

"More, my sweet ... more..."

Hermione looked at him in surprise, releasing him from her warm mouth.

"Just one little more." Lucius's eyes were nearly charcoal gray, as her hand continually massaged him, and he didn't let go of her hair.

She paused, swirled her tongue around the head, felt him stiffen, and relaxed her throat to take more of him.

"Yes! Deeper."

The urgency of his voice excited her as Hermione continued to open her throat and attempt to swallow him entirely.

"Relax, relax, you can do it. It's just me."

The lustful encouragement spurred her to let herself go, let down her defenses until his cock filled her mouth and throat. Lucius groaned loudly, swore at the top of his voice before she couldn't take him anymore and released him, both of them gasping for breath.

"I couldn't..." Hermione wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "It was..." She shook her head, made to reattempt the feat but Lucius pulled away, drew her to her feet and kissed her softly.

"It was amazing," he reassured her. "Absolutely amazing."

"Really?" Hermione knelt down, facing him, still slightly breathless. "You're not just saying that?"

"No." Lucius's answer was meaningfully short, and Hermione knew he was serious. "Now let's do it properly."

With that, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He pulled off the rest of her clothes, his expression undeniably hungry.

Lucius's hands came out, pushing her gently down onto the soft bed sheets before joining her.

"I don't want this day to end," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on her body. "I just want to ... live like this forever."

Hermione's eyes met his, her trembling hands betraying her emotions as she reached for him, her slim fingers closing around his.

"Me too," she whispered. "I wish we could do this every day. I'd never get bored of this."

Lucius's hands pulled away from hers, moving instead to her chest, his fingers exploring every last millimeter before he met her eyes. "It's never going to be boring with us, Hermione." His hands pushed her gently down into the soft sheets as he began kissing her neck.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured. His mouth reached her breasts and his tongue came out, expertly licking at her nipple, sending miniature shockwaves through her body. "But it's not just that." He moved his gaze back to her eyes. "You have such light in your soul; you make me feel alive. It was that way the very first day I summoned you to discuss my case."

"I remember. You were suffering so much," she said. Hermione knew she should have been delighting in his confession, but somehow she already knew how he felt. She knew by the way his eyes looked into hers every time they met, knew by the way he touched her. She thought she needed to hear the words, but his feelings for her were omnipresent, depicted in the way he'd hold her, encompassing her body, making her feel loved, safe, and secure.

"You don't have to say it," she whispered, breathing in his scent. "Lucius, I already know. And you know too, right?"

"Know what?"

"You know that I love you," the words she fought so hard to suppress poured out now. "I've been in love with you for a great long while." Hermione's hand brushed his cheek as she gazed at him, his face excruciatingly beautiful.

"I think I knew." Lucius kissed her hard. "We know. But it can't hurt to say it, can it? To hear the words? So that neither of us ever forgets?"

"I suppose not." Hermione swallowed hard, as his erection pressed against her thigh. "Now how long are you going to make me wait?"

"Not much longer." Lucius moved down her body, his fingers forming a path for his mouth until he paused, straightened up and slid his hands under her bottom.

"Someday, I'll see you like this again in my bed," he said, kissing her mound. "Just lying there, in _my_ bed."

She closed her eyes to keep fresh tears from spilling down her cheeks.

"Look at me, Hermione." His tongue came out and drew a teasing circle on her soft skin. "Watch what I do to you."

Hermione's eyes met his, and Lucius pressed his tongue to her clit. She felt his grip tighten on her legs as she tried to pull away.

"Shh..." His murmur was comforting, his gentle tongue even more so as he slowly traced around her pussy lips, pressing softly to part them, to allow himself to taste her.

This she could bear, Hermione thought to herself, just these soft coaxing little movements. It was only when his tongue started moving hard and fast that drove her mad. He was already leading up to it: his mouth rougher, his tongue more abrupt as it darted momentarily into her entrance before withdrawing, circling up towards her swollen clit, teasing it lightly. And then he was back down there again, holding his tongue inside her tight tunnel, his eyes laughing as her fingers curled in the sheets, gripping tightly as she stared at the ceiling, unable to meet his intense gaze.

And then he pulled away, leaving a cool rush of air on her radiating pussy, his hands still holding tight to her thighs before he resumed his game. He started hard this time, knowing how much she needed it. His tongue moved quickly up and down, before he stopped at her clit and pressed hard against it, making her jump slightly before he began flicking and circling and swirling until Hermione felt there was no possible return. But then he pulled away. She was too shocked to respond as he moved forward on his knees, lowering her bottom back down onto the sheets before he pressed hard to her entrance, his breathing raucous as he watched the head of his erection disappear. His eyes moved back to her expectant face and he leaned forward, pushing hard until he was completely inside her, his eyes watching her lips part as she expelled a long breath.

"You..." Lucius's mouth engulfed hers, cutting his exclamation short. His hands securing tightly to her waist as he slowly withdrew before pushing in again, steadily increasing the pace. Hermione shifted slightly underneath him, trying to find a comfortable position and then her legs went around him, heels digging into the small of his back, encouraging him to push harder and further in. And he did as she wanted, began moving faster, spearing deep inside her, his hands holding tight to her shoulders as he grunted over the sound of their bodies crashing together.

"You are just...amazing."

Hermione gasped, "So are you." Her face was buried in his neck, lips admiring the rough skin, inhaling his scent as she tried to keep up with his ceaseless thrusts.

"I know." Lucius's hands moved to slip under her bum, pulling her even closer to him as he buried himself deeper, pausing for a second to complete his statement, "I want you to believe it."

And then he was moving again, slamming hard and fast, his teeth clenched as the beads of perspiration covered his face.

Hermione was moaning into him as he found her mouth, kissed her, their intelligible groans merging as their lips locked, tongues moving in a slowly passionate rhythm, the embrace full of meaning and emotion.

Lucius slowed down, breaking the kiss to gaze into her eyes before he bent, grazed his teeth along the immaculate skin of her collarbone. She whimpered beneath him. Her hands glided onto his back, on his shoulders, holding him close as she whispered to him to go harder again. He hesitated, coming to a stop inside her tight passage, his cock pulsing steadily, almost as if it had a life of its own.

"I don't want to hurt you." The words were whispered into her ear, his teeth tracing the lobe as he held himself, reining in his desire.

"You won't." Her murmur was soft; the words were almost reassuring as she looked into his eyes, silently acknowledging his need, giving him the opportunity to fully satiate himself.

"I've corrupted you." The words were serious but the inevitable smile spread across Lucius's face. "I've made you... made you... "

"You've made me yours." Hermione's tone was carelessly serious. "I don't care how stupid that sounds Lucius. I'm yours."

Lucius paused for a fraction of a second, and then he moved his hands down to her legs, unhooking them from around his back, bringing them to his shoulders, his hands relocating to her waist, holding on tight as he finally began thrusting again, picking up speed as he leaned forward, driving into her hard. Hermione gasped, her mind a blur as his hand moved to her chest, his fingers gripping, digging in, sending unexpected shockwaves through her body as he knelt up, lifting her arse slightly off the bed and slamming in harder. She felt herself clench slightly, tensing up in response to his thrusts but somehow it felt like he grew even harder inside her. His grunts rose in volume as he swore between his teeth, plunging repeatedly into her.

Hermione didn't quite know what sounds she was making; it was something between a whimper and a moan but whatever it was, it only seemed to make Lucius go resolutely faster, his breath shortening as he stretched her inconceivably. And he leaned forward again, slamming against her clit with every thrust, making her cry out in wildly delirious abandonment.

"Fuck..." Lucius's face was scrunched up with concentration as he tried to hold out on his peak. Hermione's body jerked at each crazy thrust, the exquisite tension hanging heavy in the air between them.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, as he continued his barrage of reckless thrusts, his eyes fixed to her face.

"Yes..." It was the only word Hermione could manage through her half-whimpers, her body shuddering as he pounded into her, making her tighten around him, instinctively wanting to hold him there. And then finally, their bodies crashed into each others for the last time. Every sensation heightened in Hermione as Lucius pressed hard against her clit, his hand still gripping her breast, perpetuating the feelings until they both climaxed, the waves of ecstasy surging unstoppably though Hermione's exhausted body, finally satisfying her, allowing her to relax as Lucius came hard, shuddering inside her before he came to rest on top of her, equally sated.

It was a while before Hermione gathered herself to speak, "I never knew it was going to be _that_ hard."

Lucius's mouth brushed hers lightly as he slowly withdrew, releasing her legs as he rolled down to lie next to her, "You said as hard as I liked."

"I know." She smiled as he turned to look at her, his arm moving around her waist. "And it was brilliant. I won't be able to walk for a week, but still, I reckon it was worth it."

Lucius laughed softly, brushing her hair away from her face as their eyes met. "It definitely was."

Their lips met again, tenderly this time, in a kiss full of meaning and warmth as Hermione's hand came out to rest on his neck. With a content sigh, their mouths parted, while their bodies moved closer together. Lucius gazed into her eyes, and they both silently knew that this was not goodbye.

* * *

 **Thank you all for your unwavering support and warm wishes for my growing family! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I promise not to keep our couple apart for too long.**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	16. Chapter 15

Three weeks had passed. Three weeks of pure agony. Lucius hadn't left her mind for a single second. Hermione dreamt of him every night. She did almost everything thinking only of him, even while dress shopping for her wedding.

"I don't think any of these will work, Ginny. I don't want anything too overpowering," Hermione said, turning away from the gown her friend held up.

Ginny sighed as she returned the dress back on its rack. "You've been moping all morning. Maybe we should come back when you're in a better mood for this."

"Let's just get this over with. I still have to pick out our wedding bands."

Ginny threw her a disapproving look. "Okay, you need to snap out of this Malfoy haze. Look, you're engaged to Ron, who truly loves you. Even without this whole soerilia business, you know being involved in an affair is not you. You're a good person, Hermione, you know you wouldn't feel right being a participant in an adultery."

"I know. But when I'm with him … it doesn't feel like a just some passing affair, you know," Hermione tried to explain in vain.

"Hermione, for your own sake and sanity, please try to forget Lucius Malfoy. Even if you break off your engagement to Ron, there is no future in loving a married man. Every married man claims to be in a loveless marriage and promises to leave his wife, but how many actually do? Without those empty promises, they wouldn't be able to have their sidepieces on the hook."

"I know, I know, I know! It's not that easy to forget, Ginny!" Hermione snapped in frustration.

"I understand, but as long as you don't act on it and don't find excuses to be around him, it'll get easier."

Hermione blushed. "It's not an excuse," she said, referring to her choice of Wordsworth's for Sunday's lunch last week. "I had no knowledge of where he would choose to lunch. And he wasn't even there, so that's hardly being around him."

Ginny snorted, but refrained from saying more on the subject. Instead, she pointed across the street to Pandora's Box. "Let's see what wedding bands they have. At least, if we get those, the day won't be entirely wasted."

Once inside, the two witches walked from one glass display to the next, examining the wedding jewelry. Most pieces were unique, commissioned only by Pandora's Box and not sold anywhere else. Next to engagement and wedding ring sets was the new Valentine's Day display. At its center was a two-carat marquise cut pink diamond ring with smaller white diamonds surrounding it set in a white gold band. Although Hermione wasn't much for extravagant jewels, the stone was such an exquisite work of art that something about it reminded her of being with Lucius and surrounded by his priceless artwork. Looking at the ring was taking Hermione back to the time when she first stepped into Lucius's bedroom and saw the painting of Chantron's Danae. The pinks and the reds of the painting swirled before her eyes and all she remembered were the intoxicating sensations of that night. Everything was so erotic and sensual - a promise of what would come.

Ginny's voice cut through her memories, "That's pretty. Too bad you've already got an engagement ring. While you're browsing, I'm going to run over to another shop and check on your engagement present."

"Okay." Hermione nodded absentmindedly, going back to the wedding bands. Once alone, a strange sensation pricked at her spine.

"How are the wedding plans going?" Lucius's voice casually inquired.

Hermione nearly screamed, but quickly composed herself and turned around. Her heart leapt at the sight of him in midnight blue robes that accentuated his built and highlighted the pearly sheen of his flaxen hair. As if in a dream, she took a step closer to him, then caught herself.

"They're going well enough," she uttered. "We've decided on the Shell Cottage for the reception. Bill and Fleur were kind enough to suggest their home for it. It's going to be pretty small, just close friends and family."

"It's in Cornwall, if I remember correctly?"

"Yes, in Tinworth."

An awkward silence settled between them.

"I'm here with Ginny," she warned him when she spoke again. "We're looking at gowns and wedding bands."

"I'm also here with my family," he said. "Scorpius would be happy to see you. He loved your gift very much. It inspired him to start a collection of ships in glass bottles. That's why we're here. Narcissa thinks he's worked hard enough at his studies to earn his second one."

"I'm glad." Hermione turned her gaze away. The mere mention of his wife wounded her.

"I think I can guess which one you like best," Lucius boasted, pointing at the rings.

"Oh, honestly, Mr. Malfoy, I highly doubt that."

He cocked his eyebrow at her. "Is that a challenge?"

"Perhaps." Hermione gave him a bright smile, enjoying the familiar flirtation.

Lucius walked around the store, looking critically at each ring. Finally, he motioned her over. "This is the one. It is absolutely you." He pointed to the beautiful pink diamond that she admired earlier.

She gasped in shock.

"Am I right?" he asked in a triumphant tone.

"Yes."

The salesclerk bustled over and opened the case. "It's the newest piece from our designer exclusively for our Valentine's collection. Would you like to try it on, ma'am?"

Hermione opened her mouth to decline, but Lucius responded for her, "Yes, please. One can't really decide without trying it on."

Before she realized what was happening, the salesclerk lifted her left hand and slid the ring onto her third finger.

"It looks so lovely. Your fiancée's hand showcases it gorgeously. The diamond is not overpowering on her finger, yet noticeable. The marquise cut is ideal for her hand."

"May we think about it for a moment?" Lucius asked.

"Certainly. Take your time. Call me if you need further assistance."

Hermione stared at the sparkling ring. She tilted her hand so that the light danced in the diamond. It was breathtaking, of course, but she couldn't picture wearing something like that every day. Hermione would fear she'd lose it, and it was too extravagant for her lifestyle. Lucius, however, was staring at her hand with burning intensity, as if mesmerized. He took her hand in his, as though he were examining the ring. Just a simple touch made Hermione flush. If only they were here to pick out their engagement ring…

"It was made for you," he said.

Sliding the ring off her finger, Hermione dropped it into his palm and turned away. "Yes, well, I was only admiring it. It's not really something I can wear every day."

"Well, if your friend shows it to your fiancé, I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to get it for you."

She gave a sad laugh and shook her head. "He'd faint if he saw the price tag. Let's just get out of here."

Lucius handed the ring back to the salesclerk and followed her as Hermione briskly walked out of the jewelry store. It was too depressing to try on engagement rings with Lucius as if they were an affianced couple. The chances of salesclerk's mistake becoming a reality were astronomically slim. She'd never have Lucius put a ring like that on her finger and dabbling in that fantasy, even for a few minutes, sliced through her heart with almost unbearable pain. Hermione never even realized how much until it happened, and now all she could do was blink back her tears.

"Hermione, wait." At the mention of her given name on his lips, her heart traitorously skipped a beat. She looked into his eyes, hoping hers no longer shone with unshed tears.

What more was there to say?

Before either of them could speak, Ginny walked up to them with an accusatory look on her face.

"Hermione, let's go. Pampered Brides has a new selections of gowns we've yet to look at."

She quickly bid Lucius goodbye and let Ginny pull her toward the next shop.

"What were you thinking? I thought you said you weren't going to be around him more than you had to be?" Ginny fumed.

"How was I supposed to know he'll be in the same jewelry store? I couldn't exactly ignore him when he started talking to me."

"Well, what did he say?"

"Nothing really. They're all here shopping for a gift for Scorpius. He made me try on that ring I was looking at earlier," Hermione admitted. "It was excruciating! The salesclerk thought we were a couple."

Ginny's eyes threatened to pop out of her head. "Merlin's pink underpants! You didn't let him buy you that thing, did you?"

"Of course not! What would be the point for him to buy me a ring I can't wear? Do you even hear yourself?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm just worried about you. I feel like this whole situation could get out of control with one unguarded moment. Why don't we do something fun tonight to take your mind off all this drama?"

"I can't. I'm having dinner with Ron-"

"Miss Hermione!" A voice called out, interrupting her.

"Scorpius!" She exclaimed as the little boy ran up to her. Hermione bent down to give him a hug.

"Look what Grandmother bought me." He proudly held up a ship model in a prismatic bottle. Its sails billowed in the enchanted wind and the waves gently rocked it back and forth.

"That's beautiful, Scorpius."

"It's like the one you gave me, except this one is a 17th century Dutch warship," he explained, breathless with excitement. "I'm going to collect all of them! As many as I can."

"Scorpius, don't prattle so," a feminine voice gently chastised the boy.

Hermione looked up. Narcissa Malfoy approached them with her usual grace and poise. Her face, though carefully concealed with a black veil on one side, remained almost unchanged from the last time Hermione had seen her years ago. Suffering did not seem to affect her classic beauty. Hermione felt her guilt engulf her by Mrs. Malfoy's proximity; she was certain her indiscretions were plainly written on her face.

"Miss Granger, how are you?" the older witch greeted her with warm politeness. "Scorpius has told me so much about you."

Hermione felt her face heat up in shame. She hated to think just how much the little wizard could inadvertently share with his grandmother.

"I believe congratulations are in order. I saw your engagement announcement in the _Prophet_ last week," Narcissa Malfoy added with a small smile when the younger witch remained at a loss for words.

"Thank you, ma'am. I was very glad to hear of your release from St. Mungo's. I hope your recovery is going well," Hermione mustered, finding it difficult to maintain appropriate eye contact.

"I am doing much better. Memory is still hazy at times, but being around Scorpius makes me feel young again. Are you here shopping for your wedding?"

"Oh, well, yes, or trying to. We were looking at wedding gowns, but no luck so far," Hermione admitted, feeling a bit taken back by the question.

"You know, my late daughter-in-law was about your size. I had a gown designed for her as a surprise gift, but it was not to her taste. If you're interested, stop by the Manor and have a look at it."

Hermione nearly blanched. "I couldn't, ma'am, but it's very generous of you to offer."

"Oh, pish. Come by anytime and at least try it on." She leaned closer as she spoke her next words, "You've been so good to Scorpius, it's the least I can do for you. Lucius used to be so impatient with unruly children, but seeing him with Scorpius now is ... such joy. He tells me you've been a great help in that regard, and I'm so grateful. Do let me give you a gift in return."

Overwhelmed by such sincere sentiments, Hermione could only agree, albeit reluctantly. Would Mrs. Malfoy truly feel this way if she had known what really went on under her roof after Scorpius was put to bed?

"What the bloody hell?" Ginny exclaimed after the Malfoys were out of earshot.

Hermione groaned. "Ginny, what was I supposed to say? She insisted. I didn't know how to refuse her without being rude. I'll just try on the dress and leave."

"As long as it's all you'll do," Ginny said, tight lipped and curt.

"I do have some class, you know," Hermione snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that. Let's get some hot chocolate," she suggested in an obvious attempt at changing the conversation and offering a truce, which Hermione readily accepted.

* * *

Hermione's heart raced as she waited in the parlor of Malfoy Manor. Every time she heard a noise, she jumped for fear it would be Lucius around the corner. She dreaded running into him at his home, yet there was an underlying, desperate need to see him. She was determined to go through with her promise to Ron, but she couldn't deny that she was in love with Lucius.

"Miss Granger, I am so pleased you could come," Mrs. Malfoy said in greeting. Her veil was lighter now than when she had first seen her few days ago at Diagon Alley. Through the sheer fabric, she could see red and black skin tissue that suffered from Fiendfyre's deathly flames. She averted her eyes, trying not to appear too obvious.

"Thank you for inviting me," Hermione said, smiling. "I hope I'm not too much of a bother with this."

Narcissa Malfoy gave a dismissive wave with her elegant hand. "Not in the least. Scorpius is with his tutor, and Lucius is out with those wild beasts of his."

When Hermione looked confused, Narcissa added, "Horses, I mean. I'm sure he has a mind of acquiring some for our stables again."

"That's nice."

The older witch motioned for Hermione to follow her upstairs. "If you say so. I never cared much for farm animals. At any rate, he'll be out with them for hours, so we can use his rooms."

Hermione's mouth went dry. "He really wouldn't mind?" she nervously asked. "What if he returns early?"

"Oh, don't worry, he never returns early from the club. I suspect he's going through a typical irritable male phase. When we were out shopping at Diagon Alley, I suggested looking at wedding china, and he belittled every choice I liked. You wouldn't think a wizard like him could have such passions about dishes."

Narcissa led her into familiar bedroom - the bedroom where Hermione had been so happy. In the middle of the room stood a mannequin clad in an ivory satin gown with lace bodice and long sleeves.

"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed out. She meant it, but knew it wasn't her style.

Mrs. Malfoy helped her step into it and zipped it up. It fit perfectly.

"What do you think?" she asked Hermione.

Before the younger witch could respond, the house-elf popped in and whispered something to Mrs. Malfoy.

"Do excuse me for a moment, Miss Granger. My dressmaker is here. I will be back shortly. If you need anything, my house-elf is at your disposal."

She glided from room, leaving Hermione alone. The confused witch looked herself over in the wedding dress. It was simple and elegant, and complemented her engagement ring. She could see herself marrying Ron like this. At any rate, she didn't want to spend days looking for another gown. This one was available and it fit, so she didn't see the point of vacillating over her decision.

At the sound in the doorway, she turned around, expecting to see Mrs. Malfoy there. Instead, she saw Lucius. He was even more gorgeous in his white riding breeches, if that was possible.

His gray eyes burned darker as he gazed at her, and Hermione blushed under his intense scrutiny. He came to stand beside her by the mirror, his boots making the faintest sound on the carpet. They stared at their reflection.

"You're the most beautiful bride I've ever seen," he whispered hoarsely.

"You mustn't say that to me here," she cautioned him.

"Why not?"

"We might be overheard. By your wife."

"Not really. You know, I never thought I'd meet a witch like you. You don't let your fears stop you from anything."

"Lucius, I gave Ron my word. He's dying; I can't go back on my promise to him and break his heart. And Narcissa needs you now more than ever. You can't abandon her in her current condition. It would be a heartless thing to do, and I know from your devotion to your family that you'd never be cruel to them. This can't continue between us for now. We promised to wait until the timing is right."

His eyes flashed in anger. "I can't believe you're going through with this when you know you love me, not him."

"We just found each other at the wrong time. No matter what I feel for you, I'm not going to break my word to Ron and become a cause pain for another woman. I love you, but I could never be okay with hurting so many people."

"But you're okay with hurting me."

"Lucius, it's not the same thing! I thought we understood each other about that."

"Because what you're doing is daft! You don't have to marry Weasley out of misguided sense of duty or pity. You're a witch, not a fairy granting last wishes."

"Please, stop..." The tears that she had been fighting for weeks finally came out in a downpour. Love was the most miserable poison in the world.

His hands came out to her shoulders and ran down her arms.

"Don't cry," Lucius pleaded.

She felt a handkerchief pressed into her hand. He gently pulled her into his arms.

"Forgive me," he said.

"What for?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"I know I'm not making this easy, but it's difficult to watch you marry someone else, I don't care for what reason."

"Now you know how it is for me," Hermione said. "You have a wife with whom you share a home, a life. And I can't even dislike her, because she's so lovely to me. We knew what we'd have to do for now."

"I knew this dress would suit you," Narcissa said from the doorway. "You look wonderful, wouldn't you agree, Lucius?"

"Yes," he agreed.

Mrs. Malfoy went on to paint the picture, "Just add some pearls and matching satin slippers, and you'll look the perfect bride."

"If you really wouldn't mind me borrowing the dress..."

"Borrowing? No, I want you to have it. Please, consider it a gift." She gave her husband an irritated glance. "Now Lucius, do excuse yourself. We won't take over your chambers for much longer."

Lucius gave Hermione a polite nod and exited the room.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said.

"You're welcome. I wish you and Mr. Weasley so much luck and happiness."

"That's really kind of you. I would like to invite you to the wedding," the words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

Mrs. Malfoy flushed and looked away. For a moment, Hermione thought she saw her tear up. "Oh, that's so lovely of you. However, in my condition, I'm not much for weddings. Public outings are a bit of an ordeal."

"Oh, I understand, of course. Thank you again."

Narcissa piloted her eyes. The sadness in her icy blues was palpable. "These moments are so precious, Miss Granger. Do not take them for granted."

Hermione turned red. The only moments precious to her during this entire ordeal were the times she spent with Lucius.

"Mrs. Malfoy, may I ask you a personal question?"

She paused before replying, "Yes."

"Are you happy... in your marriage, that is?"

"I was. For many years, I had the life I always dreamt of. Then one day, I looked around and ... everything was different. But what is to be done? Vows have to be kept regardless of our evolving feelings." She turned Hermione around to help her with zipper and buttons on the back. "All marriages are different, Miss Granger."

Hermione felt exceeding pity for everyone in this situation. Was she looking at her own future? Stuck in a loveless marriage?

Was it worse to break her own heart or someone else's who was dying?

If only there was a way out without hurting anyone.


	17. Chapter 16

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing this story! Special thanks to a guest reviewer, Happy, who left such extensive feedback on so much of my work lately. Hope you all will enjoy this chapter!**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

"This is a great party," Ron said to Harry and Ginny, as they stood by the refreshments table.

He popped another salmon croquette into his mouth. "These are so good!"

"Earth to Hermione," Harry said, waving a hand in front of her face. "Are you with us?"

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said absentmindedly. "What were you saying?"

"Just talking about the party," Ginny said, gesturing to the guests filling out the rooms of Grimmauld Place. She and Harry took it upon themselves to throw Ron and Hermione an engagement party.

"Right," she acknowledged. Her attention was taken up by one guest who stood out to Hermione despite his attempted disguise as his house-elf. No one seemed to notice the creature who kept appearing just long enough to catch her eye. Hermione knew it was really Lucius. She didn't know how he was doing it, but his gaze and certain movements gave his true identity away; she just had to confirm it.

The 'house-elf' caught her eye again and pointed in the direction of the balcony.

"Do excuse me," she told her friends. "Must use the ladies' room."

She made sure no one could see her make a beeline in another direction. By the time she stepped through the glass doors, Lucius had already lost his disguise and stood before her as his usual self.

"How did you do that?" she asked in astonishment, making sure to keep her voice low.

"Magic," he smugly responded.

"Lucius, you can't be here."

"Shh." He slowly lowered his head to hers and a shiver ran down Hermione's spine.

"I needed to be with you," he whispered right before he claimed her lips in a possessive kiss.

Against her better judgement, Hermione slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Her head spun as she could feel his pelvis grinding impatiently against her.

Lost in his passionate embrace, Hermione didn't hear the doors opening and only realized they had company when a hand sharply yanked at her arm.

"What are you doing?" Ginny demanded crossly.

"Ginny, this is my private business," Hermione snapped at her.

"Private? Hello? Do I need to remind you that this house is full of guests celebrating your engagement to my brother?" the younger witch scolded her, looking over her shoulder to make sure nobody else was watching them. "If they see any of this, it will be the business of everyone here."

Ginny glared at her in pure resentment.

"There you are!" Ron exclaimed as he appeared in the doorway. "Mum and Dad want to do the toast." He frowned when he noticed Lucius. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"Mr. Malfoy had some papers for me about his case," Hermione fibbed.

"Can't he owl them? We're having an engagement party."

Lucius raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Oh really? Do pardon my interruption then. I didn't realize from the looks of this gathering, otherwise I would have refrained from disturbing you. You have a lovely witch, Mr. Weasley. You must be careful in how you treat her … lest someone might try to steal her away."

"How I treat her is none of your business, Malfoy," Ron said in a low, hard tone.

Lucius gave Ron a cold threatening glare. "Not if she gets hurt."

"And since when do you give a damn about that? Didn't bother when she was tortured in front of your eyes, why are you so concerned about her being hurt now?" He poked Lucius in the shoulder.

"Perhaps you should be taught a lesson in manners, Weasley," Lucius snarled.

"Perhaps you should mind your business, Malfoy."

"Ron, let's go inside," Hermione said. "Mr. Malfoy was just leaving."

Lucius turned to look at her. "You deserve better than this."

"No, I deserve someone who loves me enough to commit fully to me. And only me. Every woman deserves that. You are hardly in the best position to teach anyone any lessons about marriage and commitment, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius's face paled. "You're right," he muttered and stormed out.

Ron fumed, "How dare he come in here and-"

"Just forget him," Ginny said. "Let's get you two lovebirds inside. The toast, remember?"

All Hermione wanted to do was to be left alone.

"Hermione! Ron!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed when she saw them walk back into the room. "It's time to make toasts!"

They walked in and all the eyes of the assembled guest turned on the engaged couple.

Champagne flutes were passed around, and Hermione mechanically grabbed her own and held it before her.

"I'd like everyone to raise their glasses to Ron and Hermione," Mr. Weasley said to the guests. "I want to wish them every happiness in the world as they embark on this journey. I know that our family has had some difficult times lately, but it's those times that make you realize what's important in life. And these two have shown that love is the most important thing and can endure anything. Through thick and thin, you two have always been there for each other and have demonstrated that you two really belong together."

Hermione found herself shaking her head, but Ginny nudged her with an elbow.

After the party had wound down, Hermione made her way upstairs to her room to get much needed space and quiet when Ginny accosted her again.

"Hermione, what was that stunt on the balcony all about? You could have been seen? Can you imagine how heartbroken Ron would have been if _he_ was the one to walk in on you?"

"It wasn't planned," Hermione weakly explained.

"It doesn't matter. It was so short-sighted. It's not like you."

As Hermione continued up the stairs to her room, Ginny followed her.

"I don't know what to say. It just happened. Sometimes you can't think, you just have to feel," Hermione tried to explain. She opened the door to her room and gasped. Black substance was oozing from he wardrobe.

"What is _that_?" Ginny asked, pointing her finger at the viscous mess.

Hermione drew out her wand. "I don't know."

"Wait, let me go get Harry." Ginny disappeared and returned with Harry in tow just as Hermione was examining the substance further. The places that the rivulets touched were slowly disintegrating and eroding.

"That looks like basilisk venom," Harry said, kneeling beside her.

He opened the wardrobe and the witches both yelped at the hideous sight that greeted them. Hermione's wedding gown lay in a black heap at the bottom of the wardrobe. The lace and satin entirely eaten away by the poisonous substance that continued to eat away at its surroundings.

Harry recited an incantation and the basilisk's venom ceased its bleeding movements.

"We've had quite a few incidents at the Ministry with this," he explained. "Perpetrators would send missiles soaked in basilisk venom to Minister of Magic's office and later on everything it touched would end up destroyed."

"How can anyone just get basilisk venom?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Black markets in Knockturn Alley," Harry answered. "The Department has been coming down on them for some time, but they're good at eluding us. I've seen this stuff come in everything from perfume bottles to cleaning supplies. We just don't have enough resources to check every product that comes out of there."

"But how do we catch whoever's responsible for doing this in our own home?" Ginny asked. "Look at it! It's ruined!"

"It was a large party. Anyone could have done it. Maybe someone's jealous," Harry conjectured.

Hermione groaned. She exchanged a look with Ginny. Realization dawned on her friend's face as well.

"I think I know who it was," Hermione said, getting up.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Never mind who. I'll deal with it," she said.

"Hermione, if you know who, you have to tell me. This is Dark Arts - that's against the law," Harry emphasized.

"I'm well aware of the law, Harry. Let me take care of it."

After cajoling Harry into letting her borrow his invisibility cloak, Hermione owled for Lucius to meet her at their gazebo. She Apparated onto the property as she had done so often and waited for him. Once she saw Lucius approaching, she removed Harry's cloak.

"I was surprised to receive your letter," he said, a scent of strong whisky floated down to her.

"Surprised? Did you think I wouldn't notice your design trick with my wedding dress?

He started laughing.

"It's not funny, Lucius. This stunt with Dark Arts could land you back in Azkaban! And who would take care of Scorpius then?" Hermione demanded.

"If you were going to turn me in, you would have done it already. You live with an Auror, do you not?"

"That's not the point!"

"But it is," he insisted. "You're more concerned with my well-being than with your ruined gown."

"I'm doing this, whether I have a dress or not," she told him in a calmer tone. "Did you really think destroying it would change anything?"

"You should at least know for certain how ill he is before you commit to this endeavor."

"But I saw his medical report. Short of breaking into St. Mungo's patient records, I don't know what you expect me to do. You may not want to face the reality, but..."

Lucius leaned in to kiss her, cutting off the rest of her thoughts. Hermione didn't breathe as Lucius lowered his head to hers and claimed her lips in a tender and tentative kiss. Her head was spinning. A shiver ran down her spine. Her heart burst with bittersweet happiness. She relished the feel of his arms around her, feeling their bodies swaying together.

Then her senses kicked in, and Hermione pulled away.

"We can't do this. Not right now," she gasped, trying to catch her breath.

"Yes, we can." He spun her around, and Hermione stared at the dark, still lake.

"Lucius, please!" she begged him, even though a big part of her was hoping he wouldn't comply. He pushed his body against the back of hers and reached up under the skirt of her dress, running his fingers up her inner thigh.

"Just feel me. Let yourself go," he coaxed and he let his fingers run over the wet spot on her knickers.

Lucius pulled her closer against him and ran his hand up to cup her breast. His other hand slipped inside her knickers. Hermione's whole world began to swirl before her eyes.

He turned her around, and she looked into his eyes.

He knew. He understood.

Lucius moved one of his fingers over her clit.

"Ooooohhhh!" Hermione cried out in surprised pleasure. He watched her crumble beneath him, and she knew that further resistance was impossible. Lucius knew it too. He took out his finger and grabbed for her hand. Hermione could feel her wetness on his fingers as he guided her hand to his hard, throbbing cock.

"Feel this? This is for you," he said as he bent and kissed her hard on the mouth. "It's been for you all these months," he whispered into her mouth. Hermione couldn't help but return his kiss with a desperate urgency that she had been holding back.

Lucius's ardor grew, and he grabbed her thighs and lifted her into his arms. Using the rail of the gazebo for extra support, he pulled aside her knickers and unzipped his trousers. The head of his cock swirled into her wetness right before he slammed inside. In that moment, nothing and no one was sexier than Lucius. He was a raging beast fueled by a lust that had been pent up for much too long. Hermione was matching his thrusts with a passion of her own.

It was wild. Her moans and cries of pleasure were echoing in the small space as his grunts of strength and determination to plunge deeper became louder and louder. He was so unbelievably sexy in a primal and barbaric manner. He growled and bit at her neck as he pulled her down to the floor.

Hermione grabbed for his shirt and tore it as she tried to hold him close. Lucius looked down and smiled at the damage. He lifted up the hem of her dress and dragged her knickers off from her.

"That's a nice dress," he said breathlessly.

"Thanks." She pulled him down for a kiss as he lined up for entry.

"I'll buy you a new one," he promised and then gripped the high neck line and ripped it apart down to her navel.

"Oh…" Hermione was interrupted by the shock of what he'd just done with the full force of his penetration. He was pounding into her at a savage pace. It was unbelievable. Her head was swimming. Everything was happening so fast. She could feel a quickening of the heat building deep inside.

"Lucius," she breathed. "You feel too good."

Slowing his thrusts, he brought his mouth down to hers, dipped his tongue inside and lapped softly between her lips. The sensation was amazing when coupled with the touch of one of his finger tips circling her clit. Hermione brought her hands up underneath his shirt and around to his back. Her moans were soft and airy, then eventually stopped as she held her breath.

"Yes," he groaned. "Come all over my cock."

Her whole body tensed with quakes of electric delight dancing from the tip of her clit to the tips of her curling toes.

"I feel it," he said through gritted teeth, trying to hold back his own release. Hermione finally exhaled with a full on cry of pleasure as the last pulse of orgasm squeezed from her onto him. He looked down at her with kind of desperation she'd never seen before.

He continued to drive into her with punishing strength. Her pussy awakened to a new fire as Hermione was inching across the floor with each new thrust. She cried out several times, the air was swept from her lungs.

Lucius suddenly pulled out. "I want to come in your mouth," he murmured.

Hermione eagerly sat up and bent forward to take his cock into her mouth. After a few seconds of sucking on him, she felt hot, salty splatters of his release shooting down her throat. He was moaning and as she increased her suction and swallowed every drop. His eyes were shut tightly as his orgasm came to an end.

She stared at him with pure awe and wonder. After a moment when time seemed to stand completely still, Lucius slowly opened his eyes.

"It really is a nice dress," he remarked with a grin as he took in the view of her bare breasts.

He smiled and kissed her.

"I have to go," Hermione announced, pointing her wand at the ripped fabric of her dress to repair the damage.

"You're making a mistake," Lucius said.

"It's not a choice." She swallowed a shaky breath. "We shouldn't see each other anymore for a while. It's too much."

"If that's what you want."

Hermione nodded. "It is." Then she Disapparated without another glance at her lover.

Next week a package from Pierre Marchand, an exclusive Parisian couturier, arrived with a brand new wedding dress. There was no note.

* * *

 _Six Months Later._

The beauty of the ceremony was lost on her as Hermione didn't hear a single word the minister had said. She scanned the Ministry's Matrimony Hall and suddenly spotted Lucius.

Her heart started pounding faster in her chest. He was up to something, she could tell.

"If anyone knows of any reason why this couple shouldn't be joined in matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

Hermione didn't think her nerves could take much more as she watched Lucius walk toward the altar. She looked at the smiling faces of guests, completely oblivious to what was about to happen.

She held her breath, as the former Death Eater approached the minister.

"I know of a reason," Lucius clearly spoke.

At first Hermione thought she had imagined it, but seeing the shocked expression on the guests' faces, she knew she hadn't. This was really happening.

"What reason is that, Mr. Malfoy?" the Minister asked, his voice shaking.

"Miss Granger is marrying under emotional coercion. Mr. Weasley is lying about having a terminal, incurable illness - soerilia. I have the proof right here." Lucius handed the minister a parchment. The minister looked it over, then handed it to Hermione.

Hermione scanned St. Mungo's logo and Ron's patient information at the top of the page. The rest of the page listed blood test results and diagnosis dated on 1 November - the day Ron went to St. Mungo's without her and refused her offers to accompany him for all his appointments hereafter. According to the information, he didn't have soerilia, but anemia.

"Ron, is this true?" Hermione asked, looking at him.

He looked pained. "Yes."

"You've been lying to me... to everyone this whole time?" she croaked out.

"I wasn't lying!" Ron exclaimed.

"Then what do you call that fake diagnosis paper you showed me? What do you call all these months of pretending to have this disease?"

"They weren't fake. They switched my blood test results with someone else's. It was a clerical error or something. In November, when I went for my first month's progress report on treatment, they drew blood again and that's when they discovered that there's been a mistake, because there was no sign of soerilia in my system at all. But results were confidential, there is no way he got my tests legally! He broke the law!"

Lucius sneered. "I hardly doubt how I got your medical records is of importance here."

"It doesn't matter. You knew all this time that your initial diagnosis was a mistake, and you still carried on as though it were real. You've been lying to everyone for months! When were you going to tell the truth?" Hermione demanded, shaking with anger. She could hardly fathom all the information that was running through her head.

Ron looked lost. "I would have told you eventually. Why is he here anyway? What's it to him?"

"What's it to me, Mr. Weasley? As it happens, it's everything to me. The whole time you've been keeping up this charade with terminal disease, your bride has been my paramour. Ever wonder why she turned down your proposal the first time?" he taunted Ron. "Ever wonder why she refused to have carnal relations with you the whole time you've been engaged?"

The minister cut in, addressing the bride, "Do you wish to nullify the ceremony?"

"Yes," Hermione replied sadly.

"The ceremony is officially null and void," the minister pronounced.

"Hermione, wait!" Ron protested, but Harry appeared at his side and pulled him away.

All the guests began talking frantically and moving around in confusion.

Hermione looked at Lucius, but Ginny gently guided her away toward the bridal suite.

* * *

 **Let me know what you guys think!**

 **The wedding may be cancelled, but where does it leave Lucius and Hermione?**


	18. Chapter 17

**Finally, I can post an update! So sorry it took forever and a half - I had a bit of a hard third trimester and had to have an emergency C-section last month, from which I have now made full recovery per my doctor, so I'm excited to get back to writing and updates. Huge thank you for all your patience and continued support! Always know that I haven't abandoned anything, life just gets in the way sometimes, but I'm still here.**

 ** _Truth comes out, and Lucius goes all in._**

* * *

Hermione wished she had some Head Aide, as Molly Weasley's voice was exacerbating her headache into a full-blown migraine. All the lamentations and tears were beginning to get tiresome at any rate. Hermione simply wanted to change out of her dress and get some much needed rest and privacy at Grimmauld Place.

"On a personal note, I've never been to a wedding where someone actually objected before, so there's that," George commented in a vain attempt to lighten the mood in the room.

Molly glared at her son. "George, please. As if we need a reminder of Lucius Malfoy on top of everything else."

Hermione immediately felt all the eyes in the room turn on her and looked down into the teacup in her hands. She could kill Lucius for revealing their personal relationship in such a callous manner. Was that even relevant when he had documented proof of Ron's duplicity? Why didn't he just show her all that privately? She had so many questions for him. Yet she was relieved he had the courage to stop it; he had fought for her at least, while she had given up and resigned herself to misery. More than anything, she wished she could talk to him right now, and not the Weasley clan.

The door to the suite opened and Harry walked in, besieged by Molly's inquiries about Ron and his whereabouts.

"He took off," Harry vaguely explained. "We got into a row and... well, you know how he is." He looked at Hermione. "How are you feeling?"

"Strange," she admitted, not really wanting to disclose her feelings with so many people around.

"We'd be surprised if you didn't," Ginny said.

"Harry, is ... is..." Hermione wanted to discreetly ask him if Lucius was still around, but didn't know how to do it in front of Ron's family. "Did you see Mr. Malfoy out there?"

Molly's eyes glowed with anger. "Do not mention that wizard in my presence! That scene is the scandal of the year! He did it to embarrass us all. What a disgrace!"

The throbbing at her temples rendered Hermione incapable of keeping her annoyance in check. "It's not disgraceful to expose the truth. There would be no scene or so-called scandal without Ron's lies," she snapped.

"I was referring to the fact that he's a married man fooling around behind his wife's back with a much younger, engaged witch. That to me is disgraceful, and it's sheer hypocrisy of him to accuse one wizard of unscrupulous behavior when he himself is guilty of more egregious lies!" Molly retorted, her face turning bright pink, and her voice rising.

"Molly, stay calm," her husband cautioned her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So Ron's behavior is excused because someone else's is much worse?"

"Mum, maybe we should all just go home," Ginny suggested, intent on not escalating the tension in the room.

"What about the do at Bill and Fleur's? We can still have a party," George said with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "No need to waste all that champagne, I say. We all knew this wasn't going to last once Hermione realized she could do better."

"George, don't be so insensitive," Molly admonished him.

Hermione turned to Harry. "So he's not going to explain this to anyone? That's it? He just left?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. He just needs to cool down. He's angry and embarrassed."

"He's angry? What does he have to be angry about?" Ginny demanded. "He's the one who lied about a dying for months to everyone! That's not some flimsy white lie; this one caused massive stress for our whole family. That's mad of him to think he can just run off and come back, and we'll just forgive everything. I, for one, have lost all respect for him."

"Ginny, he's your brother, we can't hold it against him forever," Molly said. "And he has plenty of things to be angry about. He just found out that his fiancée was running around behind his back with a Death Eater. If she was so stressed about his well-being, she wouldn't be making a floozy out of herself."

"My private life has nothing to do with Ron's actions," Hermione replied as evenly as she could. "We were broken up before anything untoward happened with Mr. Malfoy."

"Hardly a noteworthy accomplishment," Molly huffed.

"Now Molly, that's none of our business," Arthur Weasley interjected. "Ginny is right, why don't we just go home?"

After everyone filed out of the bridal suite, only Ginny and Harry stayed with Hermione.

"So is he still around?" Hermione asked, setting her cup of tea aside.

"Is that all you care about?" Ginny burst out.

"No, but I have a lot to discuss with him."

"Like what?" the redhead demanded. "He humiliated you, and you'll just what? Run back to him to be his Mudblood Mistress? He's not much better than Ron here."

Hermione rubbed her temples with her fingertips. "Ginny, I know that. I'm not running back, I just have to talk to him. I have some questions and only he can provide answers."

Ginny narrowed her eyes at her. "You do realize this doesn't change his situation, right? He's still married, and you're single to be available to him once again. Merlin's dirty underpants, Hermione! For the Brightest Witch of Our Age, why can't you see what he's doing?"

"Ginny, let's not start with this now," Harry interjected, looking exhausted. "It's none of our business. I don't get it, but it's her life."

Hermione gave him a grateful smile, then turned back to Ginny. "I do realize his marital status is the same as ever. I'm not an idiot. Am I only allowed to talk to single wizards now? I simply have to talk to him about what he did is all. I'm hardly available to be his sex slave. Is that how you think it was?"

The younger witch grimaced. "I'd rather not think about how anything with him was, if I can help it. But come on, Hermione. There's a huge imbalance in that sort of ...relationship; it's not one between equals, and I thought you were above falling for something of this nature."

"I'm sorry to be such a disappointment to you," Hermione said in half sarcasm, half ruefulness.

Ginny became slightly defensive. "That's not how I meant it." Before she could say anything else on the subject, Harry took her by the waist and ushered her toward the door.

"Yes, he's still here," he said. "We'll see you at home."

Hermione nodded and quickly changed out of her dress as soon as she was left alone.

As she pulled the last hair pin out of her updo, someone knocked at the door.

"Come in!" she called out, shaking out her hair and enjoying the feeling of relief that enveloped her scalp. Her head truly wasn't made for such hair styles.

Lucius strode in, and Hermione nearly melted with happiness.

"I'd like to speak to you, but I won't blame you if you wish for me to leave," he said.

She signed, shaking her head. "Of course not. We have a lot to discuss. For instance, how you couldn't come to me with the truth and felt the need to humiliate me instead." She tried to maintain a cold demeanor as she spoke.

Lucius had the grace to flush a little and looked away from her briefly. "I do regret the way I went about the matter."

This wasn't exactly an apology.

"But why did you do it in front of everybody?" she insisted. "You had so many opportunities to come to me. However, it was more important for you to win - to best a Weasley, to show off that you're the better wizard in some misguided show of male bravado."

Lucius's eyes widened, and he looked thoroughly chastised. "I can only apologize."

"But why did you do it?"

He flinched. "Because I waited for you to put an end to it yourself. I thought if you felt half as much, you'd come to your senses without my intervention. When it became obvious you were going through with this charade, I had to ... I had to, Hermione. I couldn't watch the witch I love marry that boor. I wanted him to know...I wanted him to feel what I felt all these months... These feelings are new for me, and I do not always know the best way to deal with them. I revert to what is familiar to me."

Hermione's heart beat wildly in her chest, as her face burned. "Lucius," she said quietly, all coolness gone from her tone, "you're married ... this cannot be. I allowed myself to be deluded while Narcissa was at St. Mungo's, but... It's different now." She had to offer this gentle reminder, more to salvage her rational mind than out of any true conviction. Rationality had no place here.

Lucius brushed her words aside, "I've filed for a dissolution of marriage. I'll be a free man in six weeks, free to live my life as I want, free to pursue my deepest desires, free to-"

Hermione cut him with a kiss. Unlike their previous kisses from earlier that day, this one was gentle and slow, conveying the loneliness and desperation that they've endured during the last few months.

Suddenly, she found herself stretched out on a wide bed with Lucius over her, shielding her against the world. She could see the dramatic vista of Malfoy estate through the windows on her left, but had no memory of how they had Apparated inside.

He pulled back and cradled her head in his hands. "What would you do if I asked you to marry me?" Lucius asked.

"I don't know. Are you asking? Because if you really want to know, you can't take it back."

A wistful smile stretched his beautiful lips before he leaned down to kiss her again.

Their clothes had disappeared, and Hermione was only aware of his strong hands on her naked skin, his fingers playing along her ribcage in a teasing pattern. When he raised his head to devour her with his eyes she had the opportunity to let her own roam. He was stunning, lean and strong, smooth skin over hard steel.

"Will you?"

"Do you really mean it, Lucius? You want me to be your wife?" She was dazed and needed to hear it again.

"Yes, I mean it. I want you to be my wife," he replied against her mouth with the utmost conviction.

"Then show me." Her words rang with authority and without waiting another moment, his hot mouth closed over her right breast. It fanned a fire in her blood, a fire ignited by his kiss. She loved the almost painful sensation of his mouth sucking in her nipple, of his tongue following the pull with soothing laps. Her hand came up to play in his hair, to hold him closer, or simply to answer the indescribable need to caress him. She felt his lips stretch in an answering smile against her skin.

"Yes." Her voice was barely recognizable, husky and low and though it was meant more as a mere answer to his question, it held the evidence of rising passion. He raised his head, met her gaze with his - so full of longing and desire.

It was then he moved over her and breached her body with his. She gasped at the sensation of being filled so quickly, as her body stretched around his in exquisite agony. With every inch he owned more of her, with every moment she gave him more of herself, let him take her being into his keeping. Her brown eyes were locked on his grey ones, saw the tenderness in them as he seated himself fully. For a moment they just rested there, let her body adjust to his, his brow against hers. She held him close, her fingers tangling in his hair, her other hand soothing his skin. There was wonder in his smile now, wonder and happiness. She felt the glide of his body over hers, felt the sleek muscles of his back move under her hands, the wave of pleasure slowly rising in her.

"I need you," Hermione confessed in a longing tone that caused Lucius to smile.

Her forehead pressed to his, hands around his neck, as she took in the moment before feeling him move. His cock pushed deeper into her. Hermione moaned, staring into his eyes as he silently looked on. She marveled at the sensation of him within her. Her eyes fluttered shut. She could come right now!

Mustering as much self control as she was capable of, Hermione tried to hold on for just a little while longer. She didn't want it to be over so fast; she wanted to enjoy every second of this feeling. The teasing, frustrating sensation of teetering on the edge ... Hermione didn't want it to end. It was not a fiery coupling, but an intimate dance - gentle wave of sensation, carrying her high into the sky. She tightened her body - the growing tingling nearly uncontrollable. As the wave of pleasure crested, she moaned loudly and leaned her head back, her hips bucking against him. Lucius continued to keep his pace, letting her enjoy her release. Hermione was panting hard when her body finally went completely limp. Lucius shook with orgasm soon, his head dropping to her neck. All too soon, he moved off her, and Hermione took that opportunity to wrap herself around his body. They remained silent as he nonchalantly stroked her hip.

Hermione's head spun from the events of the day - her life now was completely different from the way it was just this morning. Was she rushing into this new life with Lucius? Was it prudent? She knew she was in love with him, but would it be enough? She felt a bit apprehensive at the thought that he might lose interest if their relationship lost the forbidden and clandestine aspect it had thrived under all this time. Before she could run away with her thoughts, an insistent knocking at the glass scrambled them completely.

Lucius groaned in displeasure. "Make it go away," he grumbled.

She reluctantly left the warmth of his embrace to open the window and retrieve a large letter from the owl. She recognized the seal on it immediately as that belonging to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She opened it and gasped in disbelief and outrage.

"What is it?" Lucius asked from the bed, leaning on one elbow.

"Ron's brought up a lawsuit against you! Us!" Hermione cried out, waving the letter.

Her intended laughed. "A lawsuit? Over untouched wedding cake, is it? What can he possibly bring up against me in court?"

"Alienation of Affection!"

* * *

 **On an even more unpleasant note, there is a link on my Facebook page to a plagiarist on Wattpad, who has been copying stories in Harry Potter fandom. If you see your story or someone else's on her list, please take the time to report her, although she has been deleting the ones that she's directly confronted about.**

 **Hope you liked this chapter. More to come later :)**

 **Lana**


	19. Chapter 18

**Thank you all so very much for continuing with reading my stories. It's challenging to update as much as I like with a newborn, but I'm doing my best.**

 **Hope this chapter was worth the wait!**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

 _ **Stolen Love?**_

 _Alienation of Affection or "heart-balm" laws were consigned to the past until six weeks ago when Ronald Weasley dusted out the old legislation to bring up a case against a former Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy. The Alienation of Affection laws originated in the 14th century to cover adultery, seduction and breach of promises to marry._ _For the most part, the use of such redress faded in the modern times, especially with a no-fault divorce on the books. However, with Mr. Weasley's suit, this law is receiving new public scrutiny for the first time in the past seven centuries. As it turns out, Britain is one of the handful of countries to have this law, and Mr. Weasley was keen to take advantage of it after Mr. Malfoy foiled the Weasley wedding by revealing the details of his affair with Hermione Granger to all._

 _Mr. Weasley had this to say in an exclusive interview with your correspondent: "This happened out of the blue. Hermione and I were together for seven years, and we were getting married. We had our problems, but it was a strong and loving relationship. Malfoy doesn't have the right to break it up. No one does. With wizard population at an all-time low, it's wrong to break up happy homes and ruin lives."_

 _The plaintiff clearly claims that Mr. Malfoy intentionally set out to seduce his fiancée when he asked her to handle a case for him a year ago. He proceeded to relentlessly woo her until she left Mr. Weasley at the altar._

 _"_ _What he did was wrong," Ron Weasley reiterates several times in our interview. "He put it in his mind to seduce her. He asked her to work on his case when she had no background in that field and kept her late at his house all the time, then he kept showing up wherever we went - dinner, Blackstone Ball, and even our engagement party. No one had invited him, so why was he there? He just shamelessly continued at it until he got what he wanted. Hermione is a good person, but I think she made some bad choices when Malfoy turned her head. Who knows? Maybe he even used Dark Arts to mess her about."_

 _Not so, counters Mr. Malfoy's attorney, Bartholomew Drexel. He insists that his client only began relations with Miss Granger when the latter broke off her relationship with Mr. Weasley and moved out of their shared flat. He further cautions against using the law as a tool with which to punish one another, stating: "You'll see this translating into all kinds of legal framework, depending on what's available. Next thing you know people will be too afraid to leave abusive relationships for fear of legal retribution. There is a reason this law wasn't used for centuries - it assumed witches were properties of their wizards, like livestock or pets. Should our society uphold such outdated concepts? This is what essentially everyone is doing when they're supporting Mr. Weasley's case: they're agreeing that women are chattel of men and that even their desires are not their own, but for men to control. What kind of message is that for young witches?"_

 _Mr. Drexel declined to comment further when pressed about the instances of his client and Miss Granger behaving much too intimately on several public occasions prior to the breakup, including dinners at Wordsworth's and dancing together all evening at Blackstone Ball, the event which sparked many nasty rumors (or revelations?) about the couple._

 _Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger have refused all media inquiries for their commentary on the case. The former Mrs. Malfoy, however, spoke to us with her view on the matter: "It will be a hollow victory for Mr. Weasley, if there is one. This lawsuit is utter nonsense. You can't alienate affections or steal a spouse. This is pure vengeance. When we're hurt, we naturally want someone to blame rather than ask ourselves difficult questions about the relationship. Unless someone is forced by magic against their will, they were a willing participant. One must learn to accept things one doesn't like with dignity and grace."_

 _Mr. Weasley's attorney, the renowned Rudy Damascus, disagrees: "Think of a broken betrothal as a business deal gone awry: if someone interferes in a business contract between two people and breaches it, he would be subject to a lawsuit. Same with betrothal or a marital contract: two people have an agreement, a promise, and someone interferes and causes another to breach it. Breaching the agreement is something for which our society must hold a liable party responsible. If our society values family and marriage, they must back it with actions, not lip service. Why shouldn't betrothals and marital contracts mean less than business ones?"_

 _While love triangles are nothing new, we wonder if the Weasley-Malfoy lawsuit might give spurned partners a new weapon in court. After all, there is nothing like million galleons at stake to make paramours around the country anxious and for their jilted lovers to seek restitution._

"Ugh!" Hermione tossed the _Daily Prophet_ aside in disgust. "Why is it still in the papers? It's been weeks!"

"After tomorrow's trial, it will be yesterday's news," Harry gently reassured her, but his tone wasn't convincing.

"Why do they care?" Hermione asked, not really expecting an answer from the two people at the table.

Ginny scoffed. "People can't mind their own business. Of course, if Malfoy didn't make that scene at the wedding, this would have been just between our families. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the redhead. "Makes you wonder about what?"

"Well, he had the proof about Ron's lies. He could have revealed it all to us in private, why the big show?" Ginny questioned.

"I already told you why," Hermione responded with irritation bubbling inside her.

"I know, I know," Ginny dismissed. "Hermione, why didn't you comment in this article? The tone is full of insinuations, and Ron's voice is all over this. Where is yours?"

"I'm not going to stoop to Ron's level," she answered. "This is a private matter, and doesn't concern anybody, but us."

"But he's twisting what happened. Don't you want to have your story out there?" Ginny persisted.

"It only matters what the judge in our case thinks. Everyone else's opinion is irrelevant, so I'm not going to bother with it. We have a good case, Ron's pulling at straws. He has no credibility left after lying to everyone about his soerilia diagnosis."

"I don't know," Harry said, doubt darkening his green eyes. "No one seems to focus or even comment on his lies, as much as on the whole... you know..." He looked suddenly uncomfortable and turned slightly pink, unsure of how to express his thoughts."

"It's expected that gossip rags would be more concerned with salacious details, but the court is above that - the judge will only concern himself with the facts of this case. There is a reason lawsuits are not won in the court of public opinion." Hermione paused, then added, "It's all very straight-forward. Everything will be fine."

However, the next day demonstrated that everything would not be as simple as that.

Rudy Damascus opened the argument, "Your Honor, I intend to prove that that Mr. Ron Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger had a happy relationship and that Mr. Lucius Malfoy intentionally and maliciously set out to destroy their relationship and betrothal. Mr. Malfoy by his conduct and actions seduced Miss Granger and alienated love and affection that existed between her and my client. I call the first witness to the stand, my client, Mr. Ronald Weasley."

Ron walked up and took his seat after taking his oath.

Mr. Damascus wasted no time. "Mr. Weasley would you please describe your relationship with Miss Granger."

"Hermione and I have been together for seven years. We lived together all our adult lives. We owned a flat together and planned on getting married as soon as we were ready to have children. We're busy at work, so the time didn't seem right, especially with her promotion. It didn't matter though. I wanted to support her. If that's how it was, then it was fine with me. People think this is about me wanting money, but I want the wizarding community to know it's about wrong and right. It's wrong to break up a happy home. If more people were held accountable for their actions, then they'd have more respect for other people's relationships."

"Now when Miss Granger was promoted to Solicitor General, did anything change?" Mr. Damascus inquired.

Ron shifted in his seat. "Yeah, suddenly Malfoy asked her to represent him in some case about his sold property. It wasn't the type of law Hermione practiced."

"She was previously at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magic Creatures, correct?"

"Yeah, she took up a new position at the Magical Law Enforcement and that's when Malfoy contacted her," Ron confirmed. "I knew something wasn't right the moment she told me about it. I told her I was suspicious of his motives, but Hermione's a good-hearted person, so she said she wanted to help him when no one would take him on. She's always been like that; at school, she helped everyone with homework, later on she helped disenfranchised magical creatures."

"Do you think she took Mr. Malfoy's case because no one else did?" Rudy Damascus queried.

"Objection, Your Honor!" barked Bartholomew Drexel. "That's speculation."

"Sustained. Mr. Damascus, rephrase your question or move on," the judge drawled.

"My apologies." He turned back to Ron, "Mr. Weasley, did Miss Granger tell you why she took the case?"

"Yeah, she said he was getting unfair treatment about his property. If no one agreed to help him, she felt she had to because no one deserved to be denied legal rights. I warned her to be on her guard and didn't want her to meet at his home."

"Why is that?"

"He's a Dark Wizard. He's out of Azkaban, but dark wizards don't change just like that. I wanted Hermione to be safe, because with his kind you never know, and she is a Muggle-born. Death Eaters aren't exactly friendly with her kind."

Mr. Damascus proceeded to the next topic, "Mr. Weasley, did anything in your relationship change after Miss Granger began working for Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yeah, she'd work late a lot. She read all these childcare books and even hurt her ankle playing with Scorpius Malfoy. It was like she had three jobs: the Ministry, Malfoy case, and part-time governess," Ron said pouting.

"What about your sex life, Mr. Weasley, did it also change?" the lawyer prompted.

Lucius sneered. Hermione glanced down at her lap, she was warned by Mr. Drexel that her love life with either wizard would be aired out, as one side had to prove a happy relationship and the other the opposite.

Ron turned bright pink. "Yes. We used to make love once or twice a week. It may not sound like all that often, but Hermione seemed to prefer it. If she was fine with it, I was. It wasn't the quantity that mattered to me, but quality. I loved her, I didn't care how often we were having sex. Once she started working for Malfoy, she was hardly home and our sex life became almost nonexistent."

"At that time, was there ever any sign of Miss Granger being unhappy with you? Did she ever indicate that she wanted your relationship to end?"

Ron emphatically shook his head. "No. Only when she turned down my proposal, then she said we were growing apart, but it came as a surprise to me."

"Let's talk about the Blackstone Ball, Mr. Weasley. What happened there?"

"Malfoy showed up and asked her to dance. He danced with her all night. Only her. Afterwards, he called her my date and thanked me for letting him steal her. He used the word 'steal'. I knew then he was up to something. I was jealous then, but Hermione thought I was overreacting, so I thought maybe she was right. I was trying not to let him get to me."

Mr. Damascus licked his lips. "What about the night you proposed to Miss Granger? If you were as happy as you say, why didn't she accept your proposal of marriage then?"

Ron took a deep breath and looked at Hermione before answering the question, "Malfoy turned up before I asked her. Her demeanor changed and she refused me. When we were having our discussion, Malfoy came up to her again. It was like he stalked her to the restaurant and was hovering about. When I asked Hermione the second time, she agreed. The difference was that Malfoy wasn't there to interfere. If he was confident that she would turn me down, he wouldn't need to hang around us and stalk her."

"No more questions, Your Honor," Rudy Damascus announced with a confident smile.

Bartholomew Drexel stepped up. "Mr. Weasley wants everyone here to believe that he was the wronged party, but that is not so. His girlfriend fell in love with another wizard - that is no crime. No malicious intent can seduce a witch and make her fall in love. A relationship, even a bad one, can have a lot of love in the beginning, but not at the end. Mr. Weasley takes no responsibility for his relationship falling apart; he takes no responsibility for lying to Miss Granger to induce her to accept his proposal. This case isn't about seducing a lover away, it's about money. One wizard feels humiliated at the way his lies came out and that his fiancée had an affair throughout their betrothal, so what does he do? He blames another wizard and wants money as compensation for that humiliation."

Ron clenched his jaw and turned beet red.

"Mr. Weasley, you said you had a good relationship with Miss Granger, so why did you lie to her about having a terminal illness in order to induce her to agree to your proposal?"

"I got my diagnosis by accident. I really thought it was true and when I found out, it was too late - I already told Hermione and Harry. I thought if Hermione and I could spend some time together, she would see how good things used to be and things would just go back to normal between us. Until Malfoy showed up, Hermione didn't think anything was lacking with our relationship. I'm not proud of lying to everyone; it was wrong. I just wanted for things to go back like they used to be."

"Isn't lying to get what you want the same as maliciously inducing Miss Granger away from someone you don't like?" Mr. Drexel continued.

"No, because if she truly didn't want to be with me, then it wouldn't have mattered whether I was ill or not. Nothing would induce Hermione to stay with me, if she truly was against it," Ron reasoned.

"The same could be said about her dancing with Mr. Malfoy, spending time with him and his grandson, having dinner with him, is that not so, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron held on. "Well, not really. He was paying her; she was his employee. I don't think she'd feel comfortable turning down dinner and such, if he made it business-like. And he used his grandson to get her to feel sorry for him. She always said how he was all alone with no one to play with. It sounded like Malfoy just did anything to keep Hermione interested in their lives and to get involved."

"Yet one could say the same about your fabricated illness. When you found out the truth, you didn't tell Miss Granger, correct?" Drexel maintained. "No, you didn't, Mr. Weasley. You carried on with the soerilia to keep Miss Granger's concern and interest in you. She left you, left the flat, cut you off from her affections. She was building a relationship with another wizard. Then here comes this hospital mishap and she's back in your life. You spend time together, she's as solicitous as ever. It's like good old days, isn't it? Once the truth was revealed to you, you couldn't bear to lose her again. You continued with the charade to get what you want. You lied to guilt her into giving you the answer you wanted. Who would turn down the last wish of a dying man, right? We all know what happened once she found out the truth, and you predicted that exact outcome that's why you lied in the first place. Your betrothal was founded on a lie, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Damascus compared your betrothal to a business contract. Well, any contract that's founded on a lie is null and void, and can't be breached if it never genuinely existed!"

Hermione almost smiled and snuck a gaze at Lucius. He seemed equally satisfied. Mr. Drexel presented a good argument, so she had hope to be optimistic. Her turn came next.

She recounted for Lucius's attorney the details of her relationship with Ron, "We were together for six years, but the relationship was foundering. I was unsatisfied with the way things were going. When a mutual friend said that Ron wanted to propose, instead of happiness, I felt it wasn't the right time. When proposal came, I turned it down and ended things. When he informed me that he had a terminal disease, soerilia, I spent more time with him, so he wouldn't feel lonely. When he proposed for the second time, I felt I had to accept, because he didn't have long to live. Of course, when it was revealed that he had lied, I chose not to go through with the wedding."

Mr. Drexel gave her a brief smile and went on to his next question, "During the time that you became engaged and planned the wedding, did you resume carnal relations with Mr. Weasley?"

Hermione had been prepared to delve into most intimate details. "No. As I said, I'd agreed out of obligation and I didn't feel the inclination to be intimate. I told him I didn't think it was proper given his state of health."

"And how did your relationship with Mr. Malfoy overlap?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "It didn't overlap. Mr. Malfoy hired me for a case, we got on well and became friendly. Once I broke up with Ron, then I pursued a romantic relationship with Mr. Malfoy. When Mrs. Malfoy was released from St. Mungo's, we ended things and I agreed to marry Ron. I obviously still had feelings for Mr. Malfoy; however, we didn't have an ongoing relationship at that time."

"Mr. Weasley alleges that Mr. Malfoy pursued you heavily before you rejected his marriage proposal, do you agree? Tell us about dinners at Wordsworth's and Blackstone Ball."

"I disagree that Mr. Malfoy pursued me." Hermione felt the sweat break on the back of her neck, but maintained outward calm. "We went to Wordsworth's once to discuss his case once and once we ran into each other there at my birthday dinner. That was a pure coincidence. As for the Blackstone Ball, we danced a lot, but dancing is hardly a crime or seduction."

Mr. Drexel looked less assured as he proceeded to the next question, "Can you tell us about the nature of your relationship with Mr. Malfoy once you became betrothed to Mr. Weasley?"

Hermione felt herself grow hotter. "We ended things, but still saw each other from time to time. He knew why I accepted Ron's proposal and was trying to be supportive, because he knew what a personal sacrifice I was making."

"When you were working on Mr. Malfoy's case, did he ever try to take advantage of you? Did he ever try to seduce you in his home?"

"No," she answered clearly. "Every time we worked together, his grandson was around and anything that wasn't case-related revolved around us bonding with Scorpius. I was helping Mr. Malfoy because he had a difficult time finding a governess and bonding with the boy - it was strictly platonic though. Mr. Malfoy only revealed to me the nature of his feelings on my birthday, after my work was finished on his case."

"Thank you, Miss Granger, no more questions from me."

Mr. Damascus stepped up to question her next. His demeanor was eerily confident and assured. The gleam in his eyes was almost maniac.

"Miss Granger, why did Mr. Malfoy hire you for his case? You have no background in property laws." He opened, giving her a false smile.

"I know that and when I brought up that point with Mr. Malfoy at our first meeting, he said everyone else turned him down, and I was his last option," Hermione calmed down, feeling the lawyer's confidence dim a little from her answer.

"I see. Now Miss Granger, you have explained everything that happened before your betrothal, what about after it? How has your relationship changed with Mr. Malfoy then?" Rudy Damascus was nearly pouncing as he fired his questions at her.

Hermione licked her lips. "I still had feelings for Mr. Malfoy, but we decided not to pursue anything. It was difficult as I was in love with him. We saw each other occasionally as he suspected Ron's duplicity all along and was trying to persuade me to look into it more. He never contacted me after my engagement party until he came to my wedding."

"So all the times you were engaged, you never once were intimate with Mr. Malfoy?" His black, beady eyes bore into her.

"Well, once as a farewell of sorts," Hermione admitted.

"And was trying on rings in Pandora's Box also a farewell?" Rudy Damascus looked as though he had delivered a winning blow.

"That was..." She was caught off guard and wasn't sure how to respond. It wasn't a question she had been prepared to answer or defend.

Mr. Damascus took advantage of her hesitation and pressed on, "Why would affianced witch need to try on an engagement ring when she already has one? Let the record show that it wasn't just any ring, but the masterpiece of the new collection valued at 50,000 Galleons - a ring that was distinctly out of my client's budget, but not out of Mr. Malfoy's, as recent store transaction shows. Nothing like a rare jewel to tempt a witch away."

Anger inflamed her. "Sir, I'm not someone who can be bought with pretty trinkets. And if I was, we wouldn't have made it that far into my engagement."

"Then why were you trying it on?" the lawyer persisted.

"It was a mistake. The clerk thought we were an engaged couple and just offered. I don't see how it's relevant," Hermione snapped.

An annoying smile played on Rudy Damascus's lips "Mr. Malfoy didn't correct the clerk?"

"Neither did I! It happened too quickly before either one of us had a chance to object."

"Now Miss Granger, forgive me for backtracking a bit, but you said just now that Mr. Malfoy revealed his feelings on your 25th birthday, is that correct?"

"Yes." She was unable to disguise the irritation in her tone.

"Was it before or after Mr. Weasley's proposal?"

Hermione's heart raced in her chest. "It was..." She looked at Lucius, but he merely stared back without giving her a hint of how to respond. "Before," she breathed out. "But it had no impact on my decision."

"A wizard declaring his love for you didn't affect your decision to marry another, really?" Mr. Damascus's voice dripped with sarcasm.

Had she committed a grave error? She didn't think anything of fibbing about what went on between them before the ill-fated proposal; Hermione knew exactly how Rudy Damascus would twist it in favor of Ron's case - she couldn't risk it. But this? She wasn't prepared to conceal it, thus, lying about it would be too obvious. Nevertheless, the gleeful air from the lawyer disturbed her.

"No, it didn't," Hermione reiterated. "I had misgivings about our future long before that night. I voiced those concerns to our mutual friend."

"When did you have those misgivings? According to Mr. Weasley, you had carnal relations with him not long before your birthday dinner. I may be a bit older than you, but in my day it's very unusual to have intimacy with someone if things between them are falling apart."

That wizard was seriously beginning to aggravate her. "I-I-I felt obligated. We were together so infrequently, it felt uncomfortable to refuse." She needed to turn this cross-examination around. "I didn't enjoy it, and I hardly think anything that happened before our engagement matters. Ron and I never had sex once we became engaged, so my affections and love couldn't have been alienated if they were deliberately withheld."

"Withheld because another wizard was pursuing you with expensive gifts?"

"Objection!" Mr. Drexler called out.

"Overruled," the judge snapped.

"Mr. Malfoy wasn't giving me expensive gifts; it's not why I had feelings for him," Hermione balked.

Rudy Damascus's voice took on a mocking note as he spoke, "I'm sorry, but I think most witches would consider a 50,000 Galleon ring and 75,000 Pierre Marchand gown very expensive gifts, Miss Granger."

"I don't have the ring your keep going on about," Hermione snapped. "The wedding gown wasn't a gift, but a replacement of a ruined gown that his ex-wife was kind enough to loan me."

"The former Mrs. Malfoy loaned you a dress? Why what a cozy menage à trois!" That drew a few chuckles from the courtroom, prompting the judge to admonish Mr. Damascus.

"Now why would Mr. Malfoy feel obliged to replace a ruined dress?"

"Because he did it!" Hermione snarled. Only too late did she realize her mistake.

"So he was sabotaging your upcoming nuptials?" he zeroed in on her.

Hermione felt trapped. "He suspected Ron's lies and wanted me to be more deliberate with my decision. He was right though. I only agreed to marry Ron because he was ill, so without illness my betrothal was founded on a lie - if something is based on a lie, it cannot be breached. The contract didn't exist, so no one could be induced to break it. How can Mr. Malfoy seduce me away, if I was already in love with him? No one can break up a happy home or force love. My heart is my own, if I wasn't open to it, there would be nothing Mr. Malfoy could do to seduce me. Falling in love with another man doesn't mean he did anything to 'alienate' my affections from another." She knew it would sting, but she had to say something to salvage this.

After she took her seat again, Hermione concentrated on holding back her tears of frustration. She felt so angry with herself for not preparing enough and letting Rudy Damascus have the upper hand. She felt a hand squeeze her knee. Looking at Lucius, her courage returned. He had yet to have his turn; all would be well. Hermione hardly paid any attention until Alasdair Armstrong-Coutts came to the stand.

"I had a few glasses of wine with Lucius and Miss Granger one night at Wordsworth's. Afterwards, they left together. That's really all I can tell you," the portly wizard said to Mr. Damascus, not looking at all pleased to be answering questions.

If Rudy Damascus noticed this displeasure, it didn't deter him. "So you would describe this outing as a social one?"

"It appeared that way," Mr. Armstrong-Coutts answered. "They didn't discuss details of their case all he while I was with them, but that would not have been proper."

"Would you say they behaved with outmost professionalism: sitting apart, no intimate contact?"

"Well... no. They were quite cozy together, and Lucius was protective of the witch when I made a few teasing remarks. It was all in jest, of course, I meant no offense but he was rather serious about it."

Damascus feigned confusion. "Serious? Why would you say that?"

Alasdair shifted in his seat. "I was teasing them about being together. I may have made a remark or two about Mr. Weasley having a rival."

"And what specifically prompted you to make such an observation, even in jest?"

"The way they were looking at each other, I suppose. I don't rightly remember," Alasdair admitted. "I get a tad liberal with jokes after a few drinks."

"And what about Mr. Malfoy's actions made it appear as though he was serious?" Mr. Damascus inquired, his squinty eyes gleaming.

Alasdair chuckled. "Lucius is always like that. I've known him for about forty years, since Hogwarts, and he was never the one to take too well to bawdy humor."

The lawyer looked like a cat cornering his prey. "And how was he being protective toward Miss Granger?"

"He moved closer to her and touched her hand - nothing untoward really."

"But they looked to you as a couple, not associates?"

"Yes, but I'm an old-fashioned wizard; I don't take young witches out for dinners to discuss business, mind you," Alasdair said with a lascivious smile.

"No more questions, Your Honor," Rudy Damascus flamboyantly announced and took a seat next to Ron with a self-satisfied smirk.

Bartholomew Drexel came up to question Mr. Armstrong-Coutts next.

"How much did you drink that night, Mr. Armstrong-Coutts?" he asked bluntly.

The older wizard looked taken and turned pink. "A bit. I've always enjoyed some wine in the evenings, especially with company."

"You seem to have a history of alcohol abuse, Mr. Armstrong-Coutts. Perhaps what appeared to you as intimate interactions were merely your inebriated interpretations, if we can trust your memory at all."

The wizard darkened. "Now just a moment! I may have had some problems in my youth, but I was by no means inebriated that night. I saw what I saw. Now I won't say I joined a pair of lovers at that table, but I wouldn't want my fiancée to be looking like that at another wizard. I did not agree to come here today to have my honor insulted. I have better things to do than answer thousands of questions just because some cuckold was left at the altar!" He rose up from his seat and growled at Ron when he stormed past him, "Grow some balls, man!"

Finally, after a brief break, it was Lucius's turn. The room hushed as he strode up to take his oath. This was the most anticipated testimony of the case. Mr. Drexel posed his questions, and Lucius answered every one calmly and succinctly. He was rational and articulate, rendering Ron's testimony foolish in comparison.

Then Rudy Damascus took his turn and Hermione's neck broke out in cold sweat. She clenched her hands on her lap and leaned forward.

"Mr. Drexel painted a rather sad portrait of you, Mr. Malfoy. Now he wants us all to think that you're the victim. You suffered a social disgrace, then a family tragedy, all alone in that manor of yours with only a child and a house-elf for company, and no one to help you with your legal troubles. So heartbreaking," Mr. Damascus mocked. "Then comes a witch half your age and suddenly everything changes for you. You went from a recluse to wining and dining Miss Granger, playing house with her. It was a calculated method of sympathy and seduction to get what you desired: revenge on the family you hate! Tell us again, Mr. Malfoy why did you hire a witch who was all wrong for your case?"

"She wasn't wrong for my case. As it's been mentioned before, no one else would take me on. I asked her because of her brilliant legal mind. One doesn't need to be an expert in a specific area to present a winning case," Lucius stated.

"Have you contacted many solicitors?" Damascus challenged.

"Four or five."

"Four or Five? Then how can you know for certain that no one but Miss Granger would take your case? You were offering a handsome compensation, certainly someone in the country would have been happy to represent you."

Lucius's mouth twitched. "I wanted the best. I didn't want to waste time contacting everyone in the country."

Hermione's apprehension gave way to boredom as the lawyer continued in the same vein, "So you can't know for certain that everyone would turn you down since you only contacted a mere handful and Miss Granger was already singled out in your mind, correct?"

"On the short list. She was by no means the first person I contacted."

"You were a Death Eater, Mr. Malfoy, are we supposed to believe that you wanted a Muggle-born witch working closely with you strictly for professional reasons?" Damascus grilled.

Sneering, Lucius responded without hesitation, "Yes. I served my time in Azkaban for my transgressions. The debt to society is paid. The past is over, I do not cling to you. I was not about to pass over a brilliant mind simply because of her background. A Pure lineage is not a prerequisite for the job I was hiring her to do."

"But you had knowledge of her ties to the Weasley family. Your enmity with Arthur Weasley is common knowledge, Mr. Malfoy. Here you were beleaguered with tragedy and disgrace, and the people you despise were thriving. Your great house was nearly eradicated; theirs was growing stronger. Two younger Weasleys were about to add very prominent members of the wizarding community into their fold: Mr. Potter and Miss Granger. The family you once thought was so beneath you was suddenly very well respected and admired. You must have wanted some revenge when you saw the opportunity, no?"

"The Weasleys were the furthest thing from my consideration at the time. I didn't make the connection to them through Miss Granger."

"All the time you worked with her, you never once considered humiliating your rivals by seducing her? Never once thought about how satisfying it would be to have a prominent witch leave Weasley for a Malfoy? To show that your family, your blood was still superior to theirs even in your current state?"

"No," Lucius smoothly replied. "It's not something I need to prove either to myself or to others. You must know very little about seduction if you think it can planned and calculated. I didn't become interested in Miss Granger to extract vengeance on anyone. I became enthralled with the woman, nothing else." The smoldering look he gave Hermione made her knees weak, as her inner muscles began throbbing with heat. She let out a slight moan and shifted in her seat.

"That's what you'd like us to believe," Damascus said, "but according to Mrs. March, whom you dismissed, you didn't start taking more care with your appearance until Miss Granger was hired. Why is that?"

"Pride. I didn't want to appear pitiful. Human nature being what it is, no one wants to appear downtrodden in a professional environment. We all dress differently for the public than in our own private moments."

Damascus didn't look too pleased, but didn't let his displeasure deter him. "It's all very interesting how you went from a reclusive lifestyle to taking your young employee out to expensive dinners, showing up at events she attends, was it all a coincidence? Nothing to do with trying to win the witch over, so she would leave her current relationship?"

"At the time, no. I simply dine where I like, I don't do it to boast or to impress anyone," Lucius casually stated. "Miss Granger has been around wizards with wealth and fame all her life, nice dinners and expensive gifts are hardly going to make her throw over one wizard for another."

"What about the Blackstone Ball? Did you pursue Miss Granger there? You were not on the invitation list," Mr. Damascus rapidly fired his questions at Lucius.

"I wanted to be with her."

"Even though she was there with Mr. Weasley."

Hermione sensed Damascus was goading Lucius into admitting something.

"That was of little concern to me," Lucius said.

"In effect, you were disregarding her relationship status in order to pursue her romantically?"

"There wasn't much of a relationship status there to disregard. I was married in name only at the time; she was in a similar situation. I came to see her at Blackstone and at her birthday dinner - both times she conveyed her whereabouts to me; I never stalked her or intruded upon her against her will." Lucius paused, then continued, "At times I was persistent, but never without encouragement."

"And this persistence you kept up even after their betrothal became public. The incident at Pandora's Box, showing up uninvited to their engagement party, the destruction of personal property - all this persistence to lure Miss Granger away from her promise to Mr. Weasley, is that not so?" Mr. Damascus asked, stepping closer to the stand.

Lucius didn't flinch under the lawyer's scrutiny. "Obviously, because I knew Mr. Weasley was lying to trick her into a marriage. She turned him down before, suddenly he developed an incurable disease. How very convenient."

"So you admit to acting maliciously to destroy the Weasley-Granger betrothal?"

"No, because an unconsummated betrothal is akin to an unconsummated marriage," Lucius boldly pronounced. "Under the eyes of the current law, it didn't exist."

Hermione gasped as murmurs fluttered over the courtroom. Rudy Damascus turned pale. Ron looked at his attorney in panic. Mr. Drexel remained composed, but his posture boasted of his triumph.

Could it be true?


End file.
